Dark Secret
by Ecco scribbles
Summary: **Complete!**A new student with a complicated ancestry enrolls at Hogwarts... Snape has a daughter...
1. Coming to Hogwarts

Disclaimer: what? It's not mine?! Oh well - it's J.K's, not mine.  
  
All subsequent chapters will soon be edited.  They will be marked "edited" in the A/N.  

Rating: PG-13ish

Pairings:  None I wish to dwell on

Warnings:  Mmm…OOCishness most likely (I'm not J.K., you know!); in re-reading the story, starting to think Alexandra's becoming a bit of a MS.  Ah well.  Hopefully the fanfic gods will forgive me.  A tad AU, for obvious reasons once you read it.  I try to keep in canon as much as possible, but will stray.  If non-canon-oriented fic annoys you, turn back now.  

  
Chapter One:  
  
Black shoulder-length hair, rather tall, thin. A Dark Mark on his arm. Potions Master at Hogwarts.  
  
That's the best description that I know of him. My father.  
  
We've never met. My father thought my mother dead. He was never told she was pregnant. Poor woman died giving birth to me, a fifteen-year-old reject. Oh, reject's harsh, I know, but it fits somehow. A muggle family adopted me, until they were killed in a car crash when I was five. Then I somehow ended up at a half-wizarding family's home. Andrews, mostly Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. One or two Gryffindors and a Slytherin. Rather odd bunch.  
  
Anyway they've called me Alexandra Andrews for about ten years now. I was home-schooled.  We're not allowed to go to Diagon Alley, so Ollivander sent me my first wand.  It works well enough, I suppose.  I still use it - never have gone to another. 8 in with a dragon scale. Rather costly.  
  


My parents began teaching us when we turned eleven, just as if we were to go to Hogwarts.  I went to a muggle school for awhile, to learn reading and writing and such.  

  
In home schooling, I've excelled at potions and charms. Not too bad with transfigurations. Hate divination and arithmancy. Good at dueling. I've jinxed Taylor—my younger-by-two-years-brother—so many times.  It irritates him.  They've never bothered with history of magic. Defense against the Dark Arts is ok.  It comes in handy to know counter-curses, especially when dealing with Taylor.    
  
Anyway. Yesterday I received a letter. With a Hogwart's seal. Mum and Da, as they've said I can call them, said that I should open it. It's sitting on my desk, waiting.  
  
Hogwart's is where he works. Has something happened to him? - I tear it open and read.  
  
Dear Alexandra Andrews: 

Congratulations, you have been accepted into Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Enclosed you will find a list of books and supplies. The term starts 1st September. As you've been home-schooled, you will be tested the first week of classes to ensure that you are in the proper levels. You will be starting as a fourth year until we are assured that you are capable of fifth year work.

Minerva McGonnagall 

Deputy Headmistress  
  
The list of supplies and books was rather detailed. It also informed me that students could bring a cat or owl or toad.  
  
I already had an owl - my twelfth birthday present. He was snowy white and I had named him Cawdor. He didn't much like the name, but I told him the story behind it.  
  
Anyway. Mum and Da thought I should go. So here I am, trying to find platform 9 and three-quarters. They told me that it was in between 9 and 10 that I'd have to walk through a wall.

  
I watched as someone ran through the wall. I closed my eyes and then - whoosh - I was on the other side and there was the train. Red and big and with the Hogwart's seal. I closed my mouth and loaded my trunk and Cawdor and tried to find an empty car.  
  
About the fifth one down, I found one that was empty.  I sat down, staring out the window.  
  
Breathe, Alexandra, breathe. I was nervous. On my way to Hogwarts, to be taught with others. No Taylor to talk to because he didn't want to go to Hogwarts, at least not yet.  
  
A brown-haired girl entered the car with two boys - a redheaded one and a cute black-haired one. They looked about my age.  
  
"Mind if we join you? The rest is full." I nod to them to join me.  
  
A blond boy, rather cute too, comes in and sneers. "I wouldn't sit with them if I were you. A Weasley and a mudblood." He leaves after the girl and boys threaten to pound him.  
  
"What's a mudblood?" I had never heard the term before.  
  
"A magical child from muggles. It's not a nice name." The Cute One says. "What's your name?"  
  
"Alexandra - Andrews." I debated about saying Snape, but since he didn't know yet, I didn't think it fair to say anything. Besides, the Andrews had been good family to me.  
  
"Andrews. But they never send their kids to Hogwarts!" the redhead says. "They're always homeschooled. Always."  
  


 "There have been some—aunts and uncles and cousins have gone to Hogwarts.  Just not my immediate family.  And besides, maybe it's because they asked me if I wanted to go. I'm not really of their blood anyway." Nor could they ever even imagine me as an Andrews. They were all blond-haired, blue-eyed short beings. I was tall. Black hair, brown eyes. Nope, no mistaking that I was an Andrews.      
  
They looked curious at that statement, but didn't probe further for which I was eternally grateful for.  
  
The girl - Hermione - said that we were getting closer to Hogwarts and should change into our robes.  
  
The Andrews didn't wear robes. At least not like these infernally uncomfortable contraptions. Sigh. I agree to get changed and come back to the cabin where they were waiting.  
  
"F'rst years, this way! Come on, now, first years!" A large man—Hagrid I'm told—says. I'm not really sure where to go - with the rest, or with this large man. He sees my confusion though and tells me it's my choice. The three I met have already left; I decide for the boats. I'm glad I chose them—it's beautiful, this castle called Hogwarts. And it's a school. Amazing.  
  
They lead us up the staircase and McGonnagal introduces herself and tells us that we would soon be sorted into our houses. There's four, from what the Andrews tell me.  Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, and Slytherin. I wonder vaguely which one I'll be placed into. My mum - my real one - was a Ravenclaw. My father's a Slytherin. McGonnagal says that we're to compete for the House Cup.  I stop paying attention. Who cares about a 'House Cup'?  
  
I'm going to be meeting my father for the first time.  
  
Of course, he doesn't know I'm his daughter, but eventually -  
  
McGonnagal ushers us into the Great Hall. The sky's been magicked to look like the night sky. Candles are floating all around. Rather pretty. Eerie. but pretty.  
  
The Sorting Hat begins to sing. I almost reach up to cover my ears but stop myself in time. Dumbledore - I recognize him from his chocolate frog cards - gives me a smile.  Or maybe he's just smiling in general at everyone.  My father...he's looking rather grumpy. No expression at all. Paler than what I thought he would be -  
  
McGonnagal's talking about me. "You've all have noticed we have a new student. Her name is Alexandra Andrews and she's been tutored at home for the past several years. She's starting as a fourth year. Now, come child, sit." She places the Hat on my head.  
  
It whispers to me.  
  
_Ah, another Snape. And an Azelophe. But where to put you? A wonderful mind . . . loyal . . . great talent. A bit tricky and ambitious. You'll do well in any house. But where to put you?  
  
Oh, just put me somewhere. I honestly don't care where. Just pick!  
  
Very well. I think you should be in . . . SLYTHERIN!  
_  
That table doesn't clap at all. Not like they did for anyone else. My friends from the train are in a state of shock. I laugh a bit, which makes them all look at me more, and join my newly appointed house.  
  
They try to crowd me out. I love magic. _Spacio_. They're now forced to give me room. My father's looking at me with a little quirk in his eyebrow.  
  
He knows I'm not an Andrews. All of the professors do—the letter had also informed me that all of them would know. So he probably thinks I'm a muggleborn.  

In Slytherin.  
  
  



	2. Classes

AN: I still don't own it? Nope, I don't. Reviews are nice - good, the bad, and the ugly. Flames used for roasting marshmallows, constructive criticism improves the writing (usually at least), and good ones make a writer write faster. We hope so anyway.  
  
Chapter Two: Classes  
  
The Andrews had told me about the houses beforehand. Said I probably wouldn't be a Slytherin, because my parentage was unknown. Of course, I know who my parents are.  
  
Found a journal of my mother's in my things. Don't know how it got there - don't really care. Made some interesting reading.  
  
The feast was over. I hadn't eaten much. The prefect is yelling for us to hurry and to "mind the stairs, they like to move". He takes the first years to the dorm - tells them the password, slugworm, and then shows me the way to the fourth year rooms. Green and silver. Everywhere. I blink, in the hopes that it does away.  
  
I like green. I really do. And silver too. Just not together. I begin to doubt my sanity for wanting to come here.  
  
The prefect leads me back to the common room, where the rest of the years have gathered. Our head of House, apparently, is going to come. My father. Damn, I shouldn't have done this -  
  
He's entered the common room. His robes are billowing about him, kind of a cool effect. Anyway. He's glaring at us. He's a rather grumpy guy. There's no way that I can tell him who I really am. No possible way.  
  
"For those who don't know me, I am Professor Snape. I teach potions, which I expect all of you to excel in, along with your other courses. That is all." No one moves. "Dismissed!" Most leave to their rooms. I stay in the common room for a few moments longer. He hasn't left.  
  
"Well, what is it?" He asks sharply, after I just stood there for awhile.  
  
"Nothing, professor." Oh, by the way, I'm your daughter. Nope, can't do it.  
  
"Then get to bed." I nod and rush off to my room. There are two other girls in the room with me. They stopped talking as soon as I entered.  
  
I get dressed into PJs. Muggle ones. The girls glare at me for a bit. I take out my wand and give it a wave and now they have permanent smile affixed on their faces. That was one of the hexes that Taylor and I had practiced against each other. I wondered if they knew how to counter it. Didn't look like it, they were struggling to get those smiles off. With another wave, the candles blew out and I fell asleep.  
  
Went to breakfast - no one would sit within an arm's length of me. But that's alright, I don't really mind that. What I do mind is their silly whispering and conspiring. The two girls had finally figured out how to counter the spell I placed on them, with the help of Draco and another girl who I didn't know at all. Our first class is Arithmancy. With fourth-year Ravenclaws.  
  
I'm in danger of failing Arithmancy on my first day in the class. I truly despise it and don't know why anyone would willingly take it. The Andrews insisted it be in my curriculum though, so I'm stuck. Sigh. I suppose I can try to find someone in my House who would be willing to help me. Hah! No such luck with that, not with them thinking me a mudblood.  
  
They don't know who the Andrews are. But that's alright - I'm not even of their blood. I wonder what they would say if they found out their Head of House was actually my father.  
  
My next class is double Potions. Gryffindors are with us. Lovely, really. Two Houses get to hate me instead of just one. I reach the dungeons first, and sit at one of the tables near the front of the class. After all, I do like potions. The Andrews had said a firm "no" to my bringing my stock potion supply, but that's alright.  
  
The rest of the class files in. No one sits next to me, but I figure that it's better to work by myself anyway. Quicker too.  
  
He comes in shortly after.  
  
"Once again, most of you can not be expected to enjoy the subtle science and art that is potions, but those of you that do - I can show you an entirely different world. As you are fourth years, you should be quite proficient already. We'll have a little quiz to get started."  
  
"Potter, what would I add to a Unforgetfulness Potion?" Hermione's hand shot up.  
  
"Um. Roots of - I forgot."  
  
"Five points deducted."  
  
"Mister Longbottom, would you care to answer Potter's lack?"  
  
"I - I d-d-don't k-know sir." "Another five points."  
  
"Malfoy, where would I look to find a beasol?"  
  
"In the stomach of a goat, Professor."  
  
"Five points added. Excellent."  
  
"Andrews, what does a beasol do?"  
  
"It'll save someone from most serious poisons. However, if mixed with hemlock and the roots of gravine, it can make a deadly poison. There's theories that date back that the addition of rosemary would counter-act the poison. Never tested though."  
  
"Excellent. Ten points." I grin, happy that I can succeed in something. The other Slytherins are looking kind of surprised - like they thought I wouldn't know. The Gryffindors - especially Hermione - are sending me glares. I guess I shouldn't have given the muggle encyclopedia-version of the answer. Shrug.  
  
"Today we will be making a Dreamless Sleep Potion." The ingredients and order in which to add them were listed on a board. The rest were working in pairs. I didn't need to look up - I had this potion memorized for a few years now. I was done about forty-five minutes ahead of the rest.  
  
"Professor?" He stands and comes over to my table after a few minutes.  
  
"What is it, Andrews?" He is nicer to the Slytherins I've noticed - he's already yelled at Longbottom twice.  
  
"I'm done." That raise of an eyebrow again.  
  
"Done?"  
  
"Yes, Professor. I learned how to perfect this potion about two years ago." He nods a bit. I decide he's probably wondering what to do with me.  
  
"Very well. Bottle it. We'll be experimenting if they worked. You'll be taking some of it tonight and reporting to me of the effects."  
  
"What shall I do for the next thirty minutes?" My table was already cleaned - a lovely anti-spill spell that the Andrews taught me helped with that. The rest of the class was still working. Neville's was looking a bit angry; his partner - a Lyons - was also looking rather exasperated.  
  
"See if you can assist Longbottom's mistake. It's rather useless, but worth a try. Go on."  
  
I go over to their table. "Want some help?" They glance at each and then nod emphatically. Even though I'm a Slytherin, I can't be all bad with my being a mudblood.  
  
I direct Neville and Jamie (Lyons) into making their Dreamless Sleep Potion. I have Neville cut half of the ingredients and Jamie the other half. Each of their ingredients goes in consecutively. I'm hoping it'll work.  
  
"Alright, Jamie. Stir three times counter-right. That's it. Now, Neville. Place each of these ingredients in one at a time while he's stirring. Good. The next one. And the next. Excellent. Now Neville, you stir three times counter-left. Good. Jamie, your ingredients go in one at a time while he stirs. Let him stop stirring after you put each one in and then stir after it goes all the way into the pot. Let it cool down and then bottle it." No sparks, nothing went remotely wrong. It was time to leave.  
  
"Andrews, wait a moment." He wants me stay after. Without anyone there. What if I blurt it out? Damn, damn, damn.  
  
"Excellent work with Longbottom and Lyons. I do believe it's their first potion that they haven't totally ruined. Thirty points. I want to see you in my office after supper."  
  
"Sir, I'm supposed to be in dueling club after supper."  
  
"Very well. I'll expect you after dueling is over."  
  
"Yes, Professor." I leave the dungeons in a run. He still doesn't know! And I can't tell him. Phew.  
  
Transfiguration is next, with Ravenclaws again. I'm not brilliant at it, but it was alright. They've been working a few more complex things than what I did with the Andrews. Of course, that's because I normally just concentrated on Potions and Charms. And dueling. I can't wait till then.  
  
  
  
Well, that's the end of that chapter for now. Is it alright? Going too fast, too slow? Let me know ( 


	3. Dueling

Guess what. I still don't own it. Alexandra's a pigment (and yes, I do mean Pigment) of my imagination. She makes a wonderful muse. Thanks to my reviewers. Smiles and hugs. Now, onward, to chapter three. ::drum roll::  
  
Chapter 3: Dueling  
  
He's wincing. I'm not quite sure why - but he's trying not to grip his arm, so I'd bet even money that Voldemort's calling him. (When is that guy going to get a clue - he's not going to be allowed to take the wizarding world over. Some people. You'd think they'd learn after a few failures.)  
  
I've lost my appetite and just wait for the meal to be over with. I'm curious as to why he wants to talk to me . . . and afraid that I am going to reveal something that I'm not quite ready for -  
  
McGonnagal is tapping on her glass to get our attention.  
  
"For those of you who have signed up for dueling, please remain in the Great Hall. The rest of you are free to leave."  
  
About twenty, maybe twenty-five stay. Among them, the Gryffindors and Slytherins make up the majority. Wonderful.  
  
But this is what I've been doing against and with Taylor for several years now. I wondered idly how advanced the rest of them were.  
  
"Alright, I want all of you to break into pairs." He's going to be teaching this, along with McGonnagal. I wonder how he got himself roped into this. He doesn't seem the type to willingly teach dueling. Sigh. There's an uneven number of students. Each year stays pretty much with the same age group. Guess who gets to be by herself.  
  
"Andrews, you'll work with me." Damn, damn, damn. Dueling with my father. Who doesn't know he's my father.  
  
"Now, I want each of you to stand opposite of your partner." McGonnagal's directing us.  
  
I'm staring at him. Watching his eyes.  
  
"We'll first practice disarming our opponent. Each of you say Expelliarius (AN: how is that spelled again?)." Most of us get it right off. There's a few that's having some trouble.  
  
I look at the wand in my hand. My father's wand. It's 10 in . . . willow. I don't know what the core is.  
  
McGonnagal claps her hands. "Well done. Now, we'll practice a few curses and counter-curses." She hands out a paper with several of the curses and counter-curses. I look briefly at it and sigh again. Taylor and I are much more advanced than this.  
  
The hall is rather noisy with various curses and counter-curses being cried out.  
  
He tells me that he's going to use a curse on me and I should try to counter it.  
  
"Vambio!" My arms are brought down to my sides in a vise-like grip.  
  
"Vambiolaria!" I'm freed. I truly hate that one. My turn now to curse him.  
  
"Seratio!" It's not on the list, but apparently he knows it -  
  
"Selaria!" His arms are freed from the top of his head. I hold in a laugh at the sight.  
  
"Silencio!" Another one not on the list, but I too know the counter-curse for it. This one was a favorite of Taylor's to use against me. It seals your mouth shut.  
  
"That one wasn't very nice, Professor." After I freed myself from it.  
  
That raise of the eyebrow again. I can tell he's rather surprised. I look around - the hall, after being so noisy, has gone silent. They were watching us.  
  
"Bloody hell, Andrews, how did you reverse that?" A Slytherin asks.  
  
"It's really rather easy. All you have to do is concentrate, thinking that your mouth really isn't shut, and then it isn't. Taylor would do that to me all the time; it's habit now to get out of it." He quirks that eyebrow again. I shouldn't really know all of those curses, not as a fourth year. And the Slytherins don't really expect it from a 'mudblood'.  
  
"I think that's enough for today." Darn McGonnagal. I wasn't quite ready to quit. It meant that it would be time for my little conference with him. Sigh.  
  
  
  
Sorry for the short chapter. Next one should be longer than the others, definitely longer than this one. I hope anyway. Let me know how you like it/don't like it/etc. I'm thinking of changing the rating. Probably PG-13, doubtful for it to be R. But who knows. However, if people don't want it any higher, I can try to keep it at the PG- range. Thanks! 


	4. Conversations

Disclaimer:  Do I really need to put this anymore?  I think we've got the point now – I'm merely playing a bit with the characters.  I'll put them back on the shelf when I'm done, I promise.  Reviews are so nice.  Thanks again.  I think I'll be nice and actually respond to them – 

**Kapies** – I'm glad that you like her.  I'll try to update every few days or so.  May or may not work out.  

**Anonymous person** – Glad you like it.  Always good to know someone likes it.

**Azaelian** – I hope their little conversation lives up to your expectations.  It's not all going to get cleared up though.  Would make for a too short of a story.  I am surprised – happy though – that you think Snape's in character.  He's one hard person to get into.  Especially with this upcoming chapter.  

Well that's it.  Onwards, to the chapter.

Chapter 4: Conversations 

Now that dueling is over, he wants me to follow him to his office.  I shrug my shoulders a bit – I really have no choice but to talk to him.  I just hope he doesn't ask any questions that I can't – or don't want – to answer.  When did it become so complicated?  Oh, that's right.  Adoption.  Being a witch. Journal.   

We've reached his office.  He's whispered a word – presumably his password – and the picture opens to reveal a rather messy office.

Never expected it to be so . . . cluttered.  There's piles of papers on the desk, quills and ink, books.  Ok, so maybe I did expect it.  He gestures for me to sit down, almost impatiently.  

We sit there for a few seconds, staring at each other.  I, wondering what he's going to ask me.  Wondering what I'll say.  

"Andrews, there's something about you that seems rather off to me.  Care to explain how a fourth year knows curses and the counters that many older, experienced wizards and witches haven't been able to accomplish?"  

"Professor, you know who the Andrews are.  What they've accomplished.  They've simply taught me what they know along with their sons.  Simple as that."  And he did know all about the Andrews.  Most of the faculty did.  The Andrews were often called when there was a small problem.  

"A muggle-born child would not be in Slytherin.  The Sorting Hat would never place a muggle-born into Slytherin.  Tell me . . . do you know who your parents are?"  He looks at me, searching.  

Yes, of course.  I've known since I was ten.  Found out I was a witch that year too.  Busy times.

"No, professor.  The hospital didn't inform the orphanage who my mother was.  I doubt she told them even her name.  I don't know anything about them."  Ok, I lied.  So what.  It's not like he won't ever figure it out.  

I hope he doesn't.

I hope he does.

Besides, I didn't know anything about either of my parents until I got that journal.  Even then, it took awhile for it to really register and for me to accept it. 

Damn it, he's asked me a question.  "What was that?"  

"You've more power . . . and talent . . .  for potions, for charms . . . than I've seen in a student, Andrews.  I know the other Slytherins don't associate with you at all – "

"I prefer that.  Insufferable pompous fools were never to my liking anyway."  

He nodded.  "I gathered that from the incident with your room mates."  He was trying to hide a smile at that.  

"They deserved it."  I felt no remorse that they had to smile for an entire night.  Poor girls.  Really.  

"I feel that your . . . abilities in Potions is being wasted as a fourth year.  I rarely ask a student . . . even one in my own house.  However . . . you could be an assistant of some sort in my classes.  Your accomplishment with Longbottom and Lyons has proved you have a natural teaching – "  Natural, yes.  Look at who my father was.  Of course, I do believe I'd be a bit more kinder than he is, with less favoritism.  Besides, the Slytherins haven't exactly endeared themselves to me.

"Professor.  Excuse the interruption, but no."  No explanations.  How could I tell him the reason I refused was because he was my father . . . and it hurt that he didn't know . . . and that I couldn't tell him.

"Care to explain that abrupt answer, Andrews?  Would you like to think it over before making such a final decision?"  

"I'd rather stay with my class.  Makes me rather less of a freak, don't you agree?  And I do need time to concentrate on the subjects that I don't do very well in."  Plausible.  I wait for his reaction.  

"Very well.  I shall have to think of something else to occupy your time during the class."  That didn't sound promising.  

"We could always duel, professor.  Some entertainment factor for the rest of the students – "  

"I think not."  He really is a grumpy man, isn't he?  Sigh.  And he wonders why I don't want to work with him.  I don't see how he can work with himself.  

"Very well."  That eyebrow of his twitches again.  "Is that all, professor?"  If so, big waste of my time.  Really.  And the whole fear factor that he would find out what I'm so desperately trying to hide – 

"You may go."   

Mission successful.  He doesn't know who I am.  Who he really is.  I don't have to spend more time with him.  Part of me wanted to accept that position.  The part that wants to know who my father is – the man beneath the sneer.  And the other part . . . I'm afraid he'll figure out who I am.  Who my mother was.  I can't chance it.  

I begin to go to the Slytherin rooms.  I'm studying the stone tiles in the attempt not to think about it anymore.  I run into something.  

Someone.  Professor Dumbledore.  

"I'm sorry professor.  I wasn't watching where I was going."  

He waves a hand, dismissively.  "No need, Alexandra."  Wow.  My name.  I was starting not to think of myself as Alexandra, but as Andrews.  

"Anything you wish to tell me, child?"  Yes.  No.  Maybe.  

"I don't know the words for it, professor.  It's complicated."  Really complicated.  

"Come with me to my office.  We'll sit awhile.  It'll come to you."  I could hardly refuse.  

I nod.  "Thank you, Professor.  I think I will."  

I follow him to his office.  

It's not as long as I was planning.  Sorry.  I'm not sure if I like how the Snape/Alexandra conversation went.  Let me know.  I might have to change it a bit.  I kind of got the idea with Dumbledore in the middle of writing their conversation, so I sped it up.  So, if anyone has a problem with it, let me know, please.  Also, if you liked it, let me know.  Thanks!  Oh, before I forget.  This story really needs a title . . . any ideas?


	5. Conversations Continued

Nope, don't think I look like J.K.  Not mine, don't sue.  Thanks again to my reviewers.  This is written after my oh-so-fun marine zoology lab midterm.  Yikes!  Hopefully no gammarids or cumacids will pop up.  Maybe _Callinectus_ or _Menippe.  _It's going to be kind of short, since my head is still hurting from the exam.  Later tonight I may add another chapter.  

Now, for chapter 5.  I can't believe it's chapter five.  Wow.  

Chapter Five:  Conversations Continued

Professor Dumbledore's invited me to sit down.  I choose one near his – phoenix?  Wow.  I stare at it for a moment.

"His name's Fawkes.  You may pet him if you like."  Oh yes, I like.  In the midst of petting the beautiful creature, he allows me to think of what I wish to say.  

"Professor.  I don't know what to say.  Perhaps I should just leave."  I get up for a moment, to do just that.  He lets me reach the door when he calls out – 

"I know who your parents are, Alexandra Andrews."  He waits a moment for me to turn around.  "Or should I say Snape?"  I've backtracked to the chair again.  

"But professor, how did you know?"  I don't deny it.  There's no point in denying that Snape is my father if he already knows.  Then I start to fear that he might tell Snape, which I desperately don't want to happen – 

"Alexandra, I won't tell him.  You may tell him in your own way.  I know because you look so much like your mother and your father.  The blend of them is unmistakable."  His voice is so kind, so gentle.  It would be so easy if he were my father.  So easy to tell him.  He doesn't ask how I know who my parents are.  Doesn't ask any difficult questions.  "You're young for the knowledge that you hold.  It's a heavy burden not to know who your father is, an even heavier burden to know and for him not to know."  I nod in agreement to that.  

"I can't tell him.  He's so . . . unapproachable.  What would he say?  Would he reject me?  Do I even want him as my father?  Da's been a good father to me; I know that.  It's almost – betrayal.  Would I being betraying him if I told Professor Snape that he's really my dad?"  He doesn't answer the questions all at once.  He lets me sit and think about the answers.  

"You know the answers to most of those questions.  Mr. Andrews would never think of finding your biological father a betrayal.  He loves you and would want what is best for you.  Professor Snape wouldn't reject you.  It might take some time for him to become – accustomed to the idea of being a father, but he will take it in stride."  

"He's a Death Eater."  A simple statement.  I don't know all the facts behind it, but my mother's journal told me that much.  

"Not so as you think, Alexandra.  He does as he must."  Well, what kind of an answer is that?  Sigh.  

"He wouldn't want me.  There's no room in his life for a teenager.  And he's crabby.  Grumpy too."  

Dumbledore gives a short laugh.  "He would make room for his daughter.  And it's not so much crabbiness or grumpiness."

"Really?  What is it then?"  

"His way of terrorizing his students."   

"He wanted me to be an apprentice of sorts for potions."  I would have loved that job; I know I would have.  But I would have said something about my ancestry sooner or later.  And I prefer it to be later.  Much later.  Perhaps never?  

"You could always change your mind, Alexandra."  I nod.  Yes, I could.  And I'm not so sure that I would enjoy whatever extra assignments he will give me during my extra "free" time; what better reason to change my mind?

"I'll think about it.  My problems aren't just because of my father.  My housemates.  Arithmancy." 

"A tutor can be arranged.  As for your housemates . . . eventually they may come to accept you.  If they knew who your father was, they'd fear him enough to leave you alone.  It's your choice."  

"I don't want the Slytherins . . . or anybody, really, to know.  A tutor might be nice."  

"I'll see who I can find.  It's getting rather late; curfew's in a few minutes, so go off to bed now.  Please feel free to come speak with me if you need to.  My door is always open."  I nod again.  

"Thank you, professor."  I head to the Slytherin dormitories.  

Well, that's enough for now.  I think I'm starting to lose the thread of this story.  Or it could be that my brain's just been overworked and needs a break.  Anyway, review please.  Hope you enjoyed it! 


	6. Slytherins

Disclaimer:  If I was making money off of this, I wouldn't own the car that I do.  It's J.K.'s, not mine.  

Some A/N:  The title is now "Dark Secret".  Thank you Azaelian and everyone else who gave a title suggestion.  The rating has also been moved from PG to PG-13.  I feel that this story is going to end up needing the higher rating.  Sorry for not updating for the past few days, it's been hectic.  This chapter was relatively difficult to write, as I wasn't sure where I wanted to go with it.  I'm still not sure exactly how it's going to work out – I do have definite plans, but they keep changing. Thanks again to all my reviewers.  

Now, on to chapter six.

Chapter Six:  Slytherins

The common room was empty when I returned.  I wasn't tired, well, not physically anyway.  I decided that a book would hopefully make me want to sleep.  I sat down in a comfy – green – chair, and started reading.   

I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, I was in pain.  Intense pain that I've never before felt.  I vaguely heard the whispered "Crucio" by several different voices.  I recognized only one.  

Eventually they released me.  I had been in so much pain that I couldn't counter it myself.  

"That's what you deserve, mudblood.  Get out of our House."  After a few punches, they left me.  

I tried walking to my room, then resorted to crawling.  I could feel my face swelling.  I would never be able to sleep like this.  I would have to make a pain-relief potion, yet I didn't have any supplies.  There was no way I was going to Madame Pomfrey (sp??).  No way I'd let anyone know about this.  

Casting an Invisibility charm, I left the room.  Walking was a bit easier now, but it was still sharp and agonizing.  The things I needed would be in the regular student stores, so all I'd have to do is go get them.  It only took a few minutes to make the actual potion.  

The stairs were difficult.  The tables helped me in the room though – I gripped them as I made my way to the student stores.  It took only a few minutes to find everything I needed – chamomile, mint, gravine leaves, and powdered dogwood bark.  I began to prepare them – the potion itself only needed to be boiled for three minutes.  My invisibility charm was still in place, at least I hoped it was.  

A sound drew my attention away from cutting the gravine leaves.  A cat.  Filch's.  Damn.  The cat turned around and left, Filch following her.  Thank Merlin.  

I returned to cutting the leaves and then mixed the ingredients together.  They steeped for three minutes.  The potion would need to be cooled for a few minutes before drinking.  It was hard to wait those three minutes.  As I tipped the vial to my lips, a hand grasped my shoulder.  My invisibility charm was no longer in place.  I cried out before I could prevent myself.  I turned around and faced – 

Snape.  No expression in his face, really.  Why'd it have to be him?  I'd rather Filch finding me out before my father.  

"Miss Andrews, what are you doing here . . . in the dungeons . . . alone, after curfew?  What is that in your hand?"  

Um.  Nothing.  Maybe that will work.  "Nothing Professor."  

He sneered at that.  "Nothing, Andrews?"  He reached out a hand for the vial.  Damn it.  I wanted that pain relief.  

"Nothing."  He smelled it. 

"A pain relief potion?  And why would you need pain relief?"  He really didn't want to know.  Really.

"It's nothing.  No reason."  It was harder to stay standing.  The pain was building and it was becoming almost unbearable.  I couldn't very well ask for it now though, after saying it was nothing.  And there was no way I was going to explain -  

"Andrews.  You better tell me what is going on, now.  Before other measures must be taken."  Other measures?  What other measures?  He wouldn't expel me.  Dumbledore wouldn't allow it.  At least I don't think he would.  

"I had a headache is all."  

"I will escort you to Madame Pomfrey then."  Please no.  

"That's alright Professor.  It's going away now."  He looked rather doubtful at that, his eyebrow quirking again.  

"Nevertheless, I shall escort you back to the Slytherin dorms."  And what, look like I ran to my head of house at a sign of trouble?  No way.

"I can make it back on my own, Professor."  Please, just let me take some of that potion.  

"I will escort you.  No points will be taken, but you'll serve a detention with me, tomorrow, at 8 o'clock.  I do not appreciate tardiness.  As you've taken the time to prepare this, go ahead and drink it."  Well, that was a surprise.  I didn't think he would actually let me drink it.  

I reached for it gratefully.  "Thank you."  

"Now, follow me."  I reluctantly did so, whispering the password.  He stood outside the picture and said something I almost didn't catch.  

"I know you're hiding something; I will find out what it is, Andrews."  

Shivering at that thought – I know he meant why I was making the potion rather than the REAL reason – but still.  Too close for comfort.  

When I finally went to bed, I was thinking about the detention I would be serving tomorrow night.  

Sigh.  

Well, that was short.  Really short, especially after no updating in awhile.  I have no idea how long this story will end up being, especially with all the ideas I get in the midst of writing one chapter.  The marine zoology test was pretty successful.   Didn't do as well as I hoped, but then again, I'm  a perfectionist.  Anyway, till next time.  Hope you enjoyed.


	7. Detention and Dads?

Disclaimer:  This is getting rather tedious now, don't you think?  Unless I get some reconstructive surgery, age a bit, change my citizenship, I'm not J.K. and I don't own anything that you recognize from the HP world.  

Thanks for all the reviews.  It's becoming an addiction to see if I have anymore.  I have no plans of not continuing this story, for those of you who have been worrying.  I'm enjoying it too much myself.  The updates will at times be infrequent, but I'm aiming for AT LEAST once a week.  It will most likely be more, since writing this beats doing organic chemistry any day.  I'm beginning to think I should perhaps get a beta reader – what do you all think?  Someone who knows Harry Potter better than I do.  (At least until I've finally given in and read the other books.  The compulsion to do so is getting more tempting by the day.)  Anyway, enough with the babble.  On to chapter seven.  

Chapter Seven: Detention . . . and Dads?  

The pain relief potion worked really well.  I had forgotten to take the Dreamless Sleep Potion for my assignment – 12 in on the effects – but it wasn't due until tomorrow.  No potions today.  Rather happy about that.  

The classes today were extremely boring.  Well, except for Arithmancy, which I was just lost in.  I hoped that Dumbledore would find me a tutor soon.  I made notes, yet if anyone asked me what went on in that class, they'd get a blank stare.  

I went to the library for a while after classes and meals were finished.  No one had talked to me at all at the Slytherin table (a few mutterings of "mudblood" but nothing that I'd call actual conversation); most other Houses simply ignored me.  My father kept sending me some really strange looks throughout supper.  At first I wondered why, but then I remembered last night.  

The Cruciatus (sp?) curse.  Stumbling down the dungeon stairs.  Pain relief potion.  Getting caught.  Detention. 

I checked out a book from Madame Pince (AN: I think that's her name, correct me if I'm wrong) and started reading.  

I had fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, a hand was shaking me.  

"It's 8 o'clock, you should return to your dorms."  8 o'clock wasn't that late, I wanted to argue.  Then I remembered.  Detention.  Damn it.  

I raced down to the dungeons, but I knew I was going to be late.  I knocked on his office door.  Five minutes, that wasn't too bad.  

"Enter!  And you better have a good reason for being late, Miss Andrews."  

"I'm sorry, Professor.  I fell asleep in the library."  His mouth kind of twitched at that.  

"Trying to compete with Miss Granger?"  

"Professor?  I'm not sure I understand – "

"Never-mind, Miss Andrews."  

"I won't give you a week's worth of detentions this time, but the next time you are late, expect a month of them!"  

"Thank you Professor."  Really, thank you.  A week of detention?  A month of them?  Ugh.  

"Clean those cauldrons over there – without magic – and then you and I will have another discussion."  Another discussion?  Do we really have to?  

I moved to where he had pointed and started to clean cauldrons.  

Yuck.  This would be much easier if he let me use magic.  Of course, that's the point of it.  It's not supposed to be easy.  Sigh.  I scrubbed them until they were mostly clean.  It took an hour to finish all of them.  

"Professor?"  He was sitting at his desk, grading papers, from what I could tell with all the red marks, the second year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws wouldn't be happy.  He looked up.  "I'm done."  

"Very well.  Sit down for a moment."  He finished grading a paper and then set it aside.  "I want to know the real reason you were taking that potion, Andrews.  And don't expect that your concealment charm hasn't gone unnoticed."  

Well damn.  Usually my charms were spectacular; most couldn't even detect that one was in use.  

"I could simply reverse it, Alexandra.  But I prefer you to tell me yourself."  Sigh.  He was acting like Da – Mr. Andrews.  I was tempted to tell him everything.  Not just what he thought I was hiding, but everything.  

"It was nothing, Professor.  Some of the other Slytherins decided to show me how much they didn't want a 'mudblood' in their House.  That's all."  He sighed a bit.  I'm sure he was expecting that.  

"Show me."  He really didn't want to see it.  _I_ didn't really want to see it.  But, if he insisted.  Revelo.  

"By Merlin!"  My black eye had turned a greenish shade.  The split lip was almost healed.  It was the muscles that he couldn't see that hurt still.  "Which ones?"  

"I don't know, Professor.  It was too much at once to really differentiate."  Well, except for one.  But he needn't know about that.

"I'm not quite sure if I believe that, Andrews, but I'll accept it.  For now.  Is there anything else you need to tell me?"  Well, now that you mention it – 

"No.  Well, except for the fact that Professor Dumbledore was going to find me a tutor for Arithmancy.  The Andrews insisted that it be in my curriculum."  

"Even though she's a Gryffindor" – he said that with venom – "She's the most capable to assist you.  I will discuss the matter with Hermione Granger."  

"I would appreciate that.  My parents expect me to make good grades.  Otherwise, they'd probably take me out of Hogwarts."  That's true enough.  I did very well under their instruction; if I didn't here, I have no doubt that they would remove me.  I didn't want that to happen.  Despite all the pain that I was feeling now, and the no-friends thing, I wanted to stay.  How else could I get to know my father?  

"Very well.  We shall discuss it tomorrow after class.  I expect that there will be no more midnight excursions."  

"Yes, Professor.  I'll try to keep them to a minimum."  Well, unless I decided it was necessary.  

"Go on.  It's rather late."  

I returned to the Slytherin rooms, but didn't fall asleep right away.  

I thought more about my father.  

Tonight he seemed almost . . . human.  Almost . . . like a father.  

Could I tell him?  

Would he reject me?  I wasn't quite so sure of the answer anymore.  Before, I would have given an emphatic yes – that he didn't and wouldn't want a teenaged daughter.  I took some of the Dreamless Sleep Potion before lying down.   

Perhaps - 

Hope you all enjoyed it.  That was rather fun to write.  Surprised to find out that he still is clueless?  No?  Good.  Well, not exactly clueless.  That's one problem with writing only one viewpoint and not being omniscient, you don't see internal thoughts of Snape.  Of course, that could change, but it'd ruin the tone and voice of the story.  Ah well.  No _Mithrax_'s showed up in it like I was thinking – don't ask, you seriously don't want to know.  Oh, and some advice to those contemplating organic chemistry.  You won't be able to, but try to skip the synthesis reactions.  They're not fun.  Well, they are, but they aren't.  I think I'm still a bit – high – from the fumes.  The actual reaction is really cool.  

Some questions for you all –Everybody happy with the pace of the story so far?  The point of view?  Content?  Length?  I'm trying to decide between one of three endings to this story.  One of them would involve a sequel.  The others would pretty well wrap it up when this is done.  One of those would lend itself to the sequel, but not as much as the first.  So, amid this ramble, the real question is would you want a sequel to this?  

That's it for now.  Next update won't be for a few days.  Unless I get really inspired to write more.  The next chapter is already about a quarter of the way written, but of course that may change.  No hints as to what will happen, cause that's no fun, now is it?  


	8. Tutors

Disclaimer:  This really is tedious now.  Look at the previous chapters.  I don't own it.  

A/N:  Sorry for not updating in a LONG time, but real life kind of took up more time than what it really should.  Anyway, here's the next chapter.  It's a short one, more of a filler chapter than anything else.  Hope you like it though.  

Chapter Eight:  Tutors

It's been a week since my detention.  Lately he's been looking at me with a strange kind of stare.  Like he's remembering something.  Something painful.  And then it kind of lightens and he laughs before he catches himself.  Gives that smirk instead.

Hermione's agreed to tutor me in Arithmancy if I assist her in Potions.  It's not like she needs the help or anything.  She's competing with me, but I know that.  She knows that.  

We've scheduled my tutoring session for twice a week, before dinner.  

"Hermione, I just don't understand why we even bother with this subject in the first place!  Potions and charms and transfigurations have more do with magic than this!  Even Divination is better!"  She allowed my rant and then went over the concept again.  And again. 

I truly hate Arithmancy.  I scowl at the page.  

She's stopped working.  

"What?"  

"It's just – you look exactly like . . . Professor Snape when you do that!"  No kidding.  He's my father after all.  

"You're just imagining it, Hermione.  Professor Snape isn't married.  And I'm the resident mudblood of Slytherin."  

She dropped it after a nervous kind of laugh.  Well, that was close.  

I wondered if I could tell her the truth.  

Show her the journal.  

Have her help me tell my father.  

How do you break the news to someone, that you're their 15 year old daughter?  That your mother – the one who supposedly died in an accident, actually died giving birth to you?  

Hermione was intelligent.  No doubting that.  She could come up with a plan.  And there was always Dumbledore.

He did say that I could go to him anytime I needed to.  

It really was difficult.  But I finally made a decision – 

Tomorrow, at my tutoring session, I'd let Hermione in on a little secret.  And ask for some advice.  


	9. Advice

Disclaimer:  Not mine.  We all know that by now, right?  

A/N:  I decided to post this chapter at the same time as the other one, as a gift for not updating in awhile.  Hope you enjoy!

Chapter Nine:  Advice 

I went to the library after classes.  Potions was interesting – we made a potion I had never done before.  I had recognized the basic concepts behind it, but I didn't think that rosemary and toleunine could be combined like that.  It was fun.  Even Neville made it properly, after only one mishap and ten points taken away.  Average good day for him.  

There was hardly anyone in the library at that time, but Hermione was sitting, poring over some ridiculously large book.  

"Don't tell me that you're reading that for fun.  Please say it's an assignment."  I really love to read – but that girl took reading to a whole new level.  

"Sorry to disappoint."  She smiled as she said it.  

I dropped my Arithmancy books down.  "Think they'd mind if I burnt them?  They'd make a good fire."  

"Alexandra, that's not funny."  Sure it was, but I didn't say anything more about it.  

"I just don't understand why I'm going to need this.  It's just so . . . boring!"  

"And if it weren't 'boring'?"  

"Then it wouldn't be Arithmancy!"  After that, we settled down for some studying.  My hand was itching to go to the red-bound book in between the Arithmancy ones, but I wasn't ready yet.  

She tutored for me for about forty-five minutes before I finally sighed.  

"No more torture, please."  She looked at me, kind of seeing if it really was all I could handle that day.  

"All right."  She sat there waiting, as I hadn't made any motion to leave yet, like I normally did.

"Can I tell you something, Hermione?  Can you keep it secret?"  She was a Gryffindor; I was a Slytherin.  Sure, she tutored me, but would that make her a friend?  I wouldn't know till I tried it.  And no one would believe her – well, Dumbledore, but he already knew – if she did happen to tell.  

"Of course, Alexandra.  I'd like to be your friend.  Just because you're a Slytherin makes no difference."  Of course not, that's Hermione.  I should have known.

"I don't really know the words for it – " I reached for the red journal, "but this pretty much explains it.  Especially the page I book-marked."  

I watched her face as she read it.  I had the words mostly memorized now, as I had spent so many hours just going over and over the passages.  First in disbelief . . . then in anger.  Then acceptance.  Then the need for the truth to come out.  

She was in a state of shock as she lowered the book.  

"It doesn't change anything, does it?"  She took a moment to respond, then shook her head no.  

"I was right."  

I nodded.  

"Does he know?"  Sigh.  Deep breathe in – 

"No, and that's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about.  I don't know how to tell him."  

"How long have you known?"  

"Since I was ten.  I found the journal in some of my belongings that were given first to the Cummings – a muggle family – and then to the Andrews.  They never read it though, as there was a magical lock on it.  I found out through reading it that I could do magic.  It even taught me my first potions."  I found a section in it.  

"See – lists and lists of potions my mum worked on." 

"Amazing.  It must have been hard on you."  Why does everyone say that, of course it was.  But you get over it.

"I'm learning to deal with that."

"So they were married then . . . before You-Know-Who found out."  

"Yes.  Voldemort sent some Death Eaters to kill her.  They thought they had accomplished it.  She was found lying on the side of a road and sent to a muggle hospital.  That's where she had me.  She wrote in this awhile before I was born.  Then she died.  Too much stress . . . "  My voice faded a bit.  A touch to my shoulder took me out of my little reverie.  

"I'm sorry Alexandra."  I nodded, words escaping me for the moment.  

"How should I tell him, Hermione?  I just – he'll reject me, I just know it."  

"Haven't you noticed the way he looks at you?  Like he's trying to figure out who you really are.  He probably suspects that you at the very least aren't muggleborn.  Honestly, he wanted you, a FOURTH year, to be his apprentice."  

"Heard about that?"  

"Yes.  And now I understand why you didn't accept it."  

"That, and the Slytherins hate me enough as it is."  

"Just tell him.  He won't reject you; that much I'm sure of."  

Sigh.  What was I supposed to do?

"Thanks Hermione."  She did help, somewhat at least.  "See you tomorrow in double Potions."  

She grimaced.  "I just hope nothing explodes."  A few days before, Neville's had caught fire.  Kind of cool, actually.  

I left after saying a few more goodbyes and gathering up my things.  

I was headed to the common room when I bumped into somebody.  I have that awful habit.  I looked up – then down.  

Professor Snape.  And papers and my books scattered all over.  

"I'm sorry, Professor."  He didn't say anything, just kind of grunted.  I gathered the papers and books up and handed him all but my Arithmancy books.

"Be more careful, next time, Andrews."  No points, no detention.  Slytherin is good for something.  

"Of course."  

It wasn't until I was back in my room that I noticed something.  

The red journal was gone.

Damn! 

I dreaded the morning.  Snape had my journal, I was sure of that.  

I took a dreamless sleep potion so I'd get some rest.  

The morning suddenly seemed a long ways away.  

Well, it's getting late and I'm tired.  Sorry for leaving it off like that, but I think it was almost kind of expected, don't you think?  

Thanks for all the reviews – I truly appreciate them.  

As far as changing the point of view . . . I kind of like Alexandra's pov better.  However, if a great many people want it to change, then I suppose that I can accommodate that.  Anyway, hope you enjoyed this!


	10. The Journal

Disclaimer:  Still don't own it.  

Well, thanks to everyone for reviewing.  Truly love to hear that I'm doing something right!  Oh, and this one's going to be a long(er) one, so grab a soda, maybe some popcorn, and a pillow.  

Chapter 10:  The Journal

I woke up earlier than the other girls, as it was my habit now.  It was easier to avoid them than to continually be cursing and hexing them – and to avoid their hexes and curses.  

I dressed quickly. It was cold.  My hands were ice; the Slytherin cloak wrapped around me didn't help with the cold like I wished it would.  

Breakfast wasn't for an hour yet.  I went up to the Astronomy tower, carefully avoiding any teachers that I saw were already up.  Curfew was no longer in effect – I just didn't feel like being bothered by them.  They always looked at me so strangely.

When I entered the Great Hall, there were very few people sitting at the tables.  The head table only had Dumbledore and McGonnagal.  The Slytherin table was empty except for Malfoy and his goons.  Hermione was sitting at the Gryffindor table with Harry and Ron.  There were several Hufflepuffs and a few Ravenclaws there as well.  

I walked past Malfoy to sit close to the head table.  I had learned early on that it was best if I did so, so no pranks could be played openly.  As I passed him, he stuck out a foot and I tripped.  

"Damn it, Malfoy!  I should hex you so your kids can feel it!"  It wasn't an empty threat – I was fully prepared to do it.  I raised my wand – 

"Miss Andrews, I don't think that is the brightest thing to do."  Professor Snape.  

I nodded and brought my hand down.  "Draco and I were just talking."  

"Of course."  He glared at each of us for a moment before going to the head table.  

I sat down.  The meal wasn't very eventful.  I dreaded going to my next class.

Double Potions.  He had to have had the journal – where else could it be?  Sigh.  What if he had already read it – discovered the truth?  What if he completely rejected me after it?  I could barely drag myself into the class.

"What's wrong, Alexandra?"  Hermione.  She had come up from behind me as I was heading towards the dungeons.

"Double Potions."  

"But you like – oh.  It'll be alright."  

How on earth could she come to that conclusion?  She had the same opinion about Snape that everyone else had – a slimy greasy git/bastard/a variety of terms.  Sure, she recognized intellectually that he was a brilliant man.  But he was a bastard at times. 

"I hope you're right."  

We arrived, just in time for him to slam the door and take ten points off of Hermione for not being in her seat.  He just raised an eyebrow at me.  

I sat down at my table in the front and started on the potion that was written on the board.  

A Reveal Potion.  Simple, extremely simple.  I let my thoughts wander to where he had the journal and if he had read it and then – 

Bam!  The damned cauldron boiled over.  A cooling charm helped to stop that.  I only prayed he hadn't noticed.

No such luck.

"Miss Andrews!  My office, eight o'clock!"  Well damn it.  Another detention.  "Clean that mess up!"  The Slytherins were snickering and the Gryffindors were too, all save Hermione.  She was casting sympathetic glances at me.  

I cleaned the excess up.  The potion of course was ruined.  I started over.  This time I didn't let my concentration waver and produced the proper cranberry-red thick potion that was required.  

I bottled it and waited for the rest of the class to be done.  

"Miss Andrews, now that you've finished, you may assist Longbottom and Granger."  Hermione was paired with Neville, trying her absolute best not to lose her patience.

"She blew hers up, I don't see how he expects her to help them!"  A voice that I didn't recognize.  

"Oh, be quiet.  She's almost as adept as he is."  I didn't know who my defender was, but it made me smile.  

Hermione was able to make her own potion while I helped Neville.  It didn't explode, merely grumbled once or twice.  

I was thankful to finally escape the room –

"Do not be late, Andrews.  I expect you to be on time."  

"Of course, Professor."  

"No falling asleep in the library."  Did this man just smile?  Wonders never cease.  "It also has come to my attention that one of your books was accidentally given to me in our little – encounter.  I will bring it with me tonight."  

"Thank you."  

"And we'll discuss it."  

"Yes, sir."  NO, sir.  Please no.  I raced to my next class.  

Arithmancy.  Oh yeah, my day just got so much better.  

I huddled down in the chair, hoping the Professor didn't notice me.  Thankfully I was pretty good at being almost-invisible and wasn't asked anything.  

My notes wouldn't have helped anyway – they were covered in doodles.  

A strange design, repeating, over and over.  

It took me a moment to realize what it was.  

The Snape family crest.  

I bunched the paper up and ripped it a few times for good measure before throwing it away.  I hoped that no one would notice it.  

Lunch was alright, but I ate quickly and headed to the library.  There was supposed to be a new book coming in on Advanced Charms and I wanted to check it out first.

Madame Pince informed me that it wasn't to come in for another hour, but she would be kind enough to reserve it for me.  I thanked her and went to the muggle section.

            _Where shall we three meet again_

_            In thunder, lightning, or in rain?_

_            When the hurly-burly's done_

_            When the battle's lost and won_

_            That will be ere the set of sun_

_            Where the place?_

_            Upon the heath._

_            There to meet with Macbeth._

_            I come Graymalkin._

_            Paddock calls._

_            Anon._

_            Fair is foul and foul is fair,_

_            Hover through the fog and filthy air._

For a Muggle, he was a great man.  I sighed and continued to read.  Madame Pince came over a short while later.  

"The book you wanted, Alexandra."  She handed it to me.

"Thank you!"  I reached for it – 

"You will have it back _on time_, this time."

"Of course."  I put _Macbeth_ to the side for awhile so I could delve into the world of charms.

Amazing.  There was a charm for everything.  Well, almost.

It also detailed how you could "invent" your own special charm.  I had no real desire to do that – well, not until I had learned some of the more difficult ones.  But it was a rather interesting read.  

It was almost time for my Arithmancy tutoring session with Hermione.  The last till next week.  Thank Merlin.  I returned the books to Madame Pince, who gave me a small smile.  

I waited for Hermione to come.  

She came, with Harry and Ron behind her.  

"You haven't – "

"Of course not.  They didn't understand today's lecture either.  I thought it best to have all three of you here, so I wouldn't have to repeat myself."  Phew.  

"Sorry, Hermione.  It's just –"

"I know.  No apology necessary.  Now, let's see your notes."  During that conversation, the boys were looking at us as if we had grown a head or two.

"Girl stuff."  That quickly wiped any curiosity from their faces.

We brought out our notes.  Hermione's was the only legible one.  I hadn't even attempted to take notes, for which she scolded me.  

The tutoring session ended with three brains not really absorbing the information and a very frustrated Hermione.

"I promise I'll work on it later.  I have to go now.  Mandatory meeting with the House."  I wasn't looking forward to it.  

They shuddered and said goodbye.

I made it to the Slytherin common room and was sitting before anyone else arrived.  I sat near the fire.  It was rather cold – didn't they realize humans were NOT cold-blooded, even Slytherins?  Oh well.

The Slytherin Quidditch team arrived next, followed by most of the fourth and up years.  The younger ones came in shortly later.  They discussed the upcoming Quidditch matches, points, and the fact that we were trailing Gryffindor.  

They proceeded to outline plans on how to get points taken away from Gryffindor and points awarded to us.

I sighed.  This was their ever-so-important meeting?  

They concluded it before supper was to start.  We went down together – a solidarity show? Who would have thought? – and sat almost simultaneously.  

I looked over at the Gryffindor table and saw Hermione and demonstrated gagging noises.  She shook her head, but was smiling.  I looked back at the Slytherin table.  Many were already glaring at me.  I gave them my best glare, and smiled when they turned away.

I spent the next hour or so in the library, reading the Advanced Charms book.  Fascinating.  Then I remembered my semi-detention – after all, he just said to be there at eight, there was no mention of "detention".  

I knocked on his office door at eight.  

"Enter."  I slowly entered.  

"Your journal."  

"Thank you Professor."  I stood there, waiting.  

"Tell me, Miss Andrews.  Why did my best Potions student have an – accident?"  

"I was . . . distracted, Professor.  I'm sorry."  

"I'm sure.  Tell me what the distraction was, so it may be remedied."  Well – I have my journal back, so it won't happen again.  And you still obviously don't know I'm your daughter, so it's all good on the distractions department now.  

"I don't really recall anymore."  

"Hmm."  He went back to grading a paper; I was left standing there again.  

"Why did you lie to me earlier, Miss Andrews?"  

"I don't know what you're talking about."  

"I believe that you know exactly who your parents are.  The truth is most probably in that journal of yours – or your mother's? – which I was unable to open."  That was way too close to the truth.  

"It's better for no one to know, Professor."  Sigh.

"Your mother?"  

"Arriana Chekiv.  She's dead, which is why I'm with the Andrews."  That eyebrow raised again.  He must have recognized the name or something.  That wasn't the name he knew her by though.  It was what I've come to call her "hiding name".  

"And your father?"   

I was so tempted to tell him.  So desperate to tell him.  

"I can't tell you."  

"He's dead then?"  Well, that was blunt enough.

"No."  

"She didn't know who he was?"  Ouch.  I was student – he had no right to make such insinuations about my mother.

"She knew.  They were married for a short time."  Before she died.  Before their secrets were revealed.  He wasn't the only one with a not-so-secret secret.  After all, most knew he was a Death Eater.  They didn't know she had her own.

"Would I know him?"  So he was beginning to think he was a Death Eater – that was the only logical conclusion that I could come up with.  

"Oh yes.  You know him very well."  After all, he's you.  You're him.

"And still you won't tell me?  I could protect you, if that's what you're worried about.  Hogwarts is the safest place you could possible be."  

"I can't tell you."  

"Did you know that your mother was the maker of a charm known simply as the Lock?  It allows only the person intended to open something.  Much like this journal of yours."  

"No . . . I didn't know.   You knew her?"  Of course he knew her . . . but by a different name.

"Only by reputation.  She was a very talented witch.  Was home-schooled, apparently.  Not much is really known about her.  The Ministry would really love to get their hands on that journal.  She disappeared from the wizarding world almost sixteen years ago."  

I nodded.  

"Alexandra.  I know that you are hiding something.  And I guarantee that I will discover what that something is.  It would be much easier if you'd simply tell me."  

"I'm sorry.  I can't."  Wasn't ready yet, anyway.  Eventually he'd figure it out; he was a brilliant man after all, and not just in Potions.

"Very well.  You are dismissed."  

I left the room as quickly as I could, clutching the journal to me.

Well that's something.  My mother made a charm all her own.  

I finished reading _Macbeth_ up to the passage – 

            _Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow_

_            Creeps upon this petty pace,_

_            From day to day, to the last syllable_

_            Of recorded time.  And all our yesterdays_

_            Have lighted fools, the way to dusty death._

_            Out, out, brief candle!  Life's but a walking shadow_

_            A poor player that struts and frets_

_            His hour upon the stage,_

_            Then to be heard no more._

_            It is a tale told by an idiot_

_            Full of sound and fury_

_            Signifying nothing._

I sighed.  He really understood it all.  I was one of those players, up on the stage, waiting for my hour to be up.  And then what?  After it's told, it'll have been for nothing.  Sigh.  

I only hoped that I remained sane after it all.  

I fell asleep, haunted by a name.  

Well, that was definitely longer than my other chapters, now wasn't it?  

_Macbeth _belongs to Shakespeare and the many minds that that play has captured over the years.  But truly, it's not mine, thought I wish it could have been, as it's my absolute favorite.  The passages may not be completely correct; I was typing from memory, and I can't find my copy – sniff – so if anyone notices anything amiss with it, please do tell me.  

I've finally decided exactly where this is going, but it, of course, is subject to change.  Eventually the others will play a larger role in this, but the limelight's going to be on Alexandra and Severus.  Oh yes, Voldemort might have a little cameo.  Or even a large one.  We'll have to see what we see, now won't we?  


	11. The Project

Disclaimer:  Let's see.  Nothing's changed since I've last written; she just won't hand over her rights to Harry Potter.  Darn it.  I guess that means I still don't own it.  

Warning:  If this goes as I'm planning – and it may or may not, this story seems to be writing itself, once I actually sit at the keyboard – then this is going to get darker.  If you don't like dark angsty stuff, you might want to stop reading now.

Thanks to all my reviewers!  I really do appreciate them; I'm glad you're all liking it.  This is definitely going to be shorter than the last chapter.  

Chapter 11:  The Project

He was in a worse mood than ever before (hard to imagine, really), and not even the Slytherins were coming away from the dungeons unscathed.  My next class was Potions, but from the rumors flying around how he was behaving, I didn't want to go.  Not after last night.  Not after him finding out who my mother – even by a different name – was.  

I wondered if he knew the full truth about her.  

I didn't find out until last night.  I woke up early – even before curfew was over – and decided to read the journal.  I came across a page that I must have skipped over before.  Or perhaps it was time delayed; I'm not sure.  Anyway, I was reading and I found out something else about my mother.  Something darker than what I could even imagine.  

My thoughts were interrupted as the door crashed open.  He swept in the room.

"Each of you will be paired with someone from another House.  I will call out your names –

            Potter-Andrews

            Granger-Malfoy

            Longbottom-Goyle

            Weasley-Crabbe . . . "  It continued for quite awhile.  "You will research several types of potions and their effects.  You will then bring me a potion of your own making and describe its usage.  If it is not something that can be tested, the grade will be an F."  The class bit back a groan.  "The research will be three feet in length, not an inch shorter, not an inch longer.  Some of the ingredients that you may research are sage, thistlebrush, rosemary, thirn, gravine, toluenine, and muckberry.  The rest are listed on the board.  If you wish to research something else, you must come to me for approval.  Well, what are you waiting for, an invitation?  Why aren't you copying it down?"  

The scratch of quills against parchment.  Furious scribbling amidst groans and curses.  Oh yes, this was going to be an interesting project.  

Told you it would be short.  It's really short, I know.  I'm sorry.  Necessary chapter though.  I debated about posting this until after I had another chapter written but decided not to.  Hope you enjoy!


	12. Secrets Revealed

Disclaimer:  All right, you've convinced me.  I own it, I own it all!  (In my dreams, of course).  I do however own this lovely twisting strange plot.  And Alexandra.  

Sorry for the wait!  I've been really busy.  And this chapter was really difficult to write.  I know where I want to go; it's getting there that's the problem. 

Chapter 12:  Secrets Revealed

The journal has constantly been adding pages; each day, I find new ones that I had skipped over before.  It's a spell, a charm, I know.  I just don't understand it.  

It's all so confusing.  She was probably the best Charms witch in England, probably the world.  And my father . . . he apparently didn't know everything there was to know about her.  

She led two lives.  

They're all detailed in the journal.  Every single sordid detail.  The lies she told, the lies told about her.  Her faked death – then leading up to her actual death.  Because of me.  

Voldemort hadn't really tried to kill her that first time.  That was a ruse.  To put my father firmly in his place, I suppose.  

He did try after he found out about me.  That's why she stayed in the muggle world.  She used magic very sparingly.  

She played at being Arriana Chekiv.  That's why no one knew much about her.  She didn't really exist.   

She was Arriana Azelophe.  Half-sister to the great Evil Lord himself, but full-blood.  When she turned eleven, she went to Hogwart's secure in that name – her mother's name.  

She was called mudblood by many of the Slytherins.  Just like me.  

I couldn't sleep – yet again.  I read and re-read the pages, until yet another one appeared.

            _My darling daughter, Alexandra,_

_                        Know that I will always love you.  You're reading this to discover the truth about myself – and you.  You already know who your father is.  You now know who I really am.  _

_                        Please don't hate me.  _

_                        I never swore allegiance.  I never wore the Mark.  But I did spy; I must admit that.  But deceptions wears thin, it was destroying me.  I forced him to allow me to leave the wizarding world – faking my death.  I knew I was carrying you at the time; I couldn't risk you being harmed.  _

_                        Please forgive me._

_                        I never gave you a chance to know your father.  He's a hard man, but he wasn't always.  Times have been difficult.  Battles difficult.  _

_                        He will love you; I know that.  He will take care of you, protect you, now that I cannot.  I know that I shall not live to see you grow.  _

_                        If you're much like me, Alexandra, you haven't told him yet.  He'll understand.  You deserve to have him; he deserves to know his daughter.  _

_                        And when you do tell him – bear a message for me.  _

_                        I loved him – still love him.  I never meant to harm him in any way.  Also tell him . . . the potion is done.  Or should be by this time.  _

_                        He'll find it in our place.  _

_                        Alexandra, you are the most precious being in my life.  _

_                        I love you.  Please do not judge me – or your father – too harshly._

_                        Love,_

_                        Mother_

Tears fell from my cheeks.  They had already made tracks from my eyes.  I shook myself from the daze I was feeling.

I knew what I was going to do.  

Knew what I must do.  

I dressed quickly, using a silencing charm and then an invisibility charm so my fellow roommates would not suspect anything.

I crept down to the dungeons, red journal in hand.  

(AN:  if I were really mean, I'd leave it there.  But since I haven't updated in awhile, and I don't really feel like dodging any rocks or mud, I'll continue.)

I knocked resolutely on his door.  

I could get in serious trouble for coming down here, but I had an excellent reason.  

I needed to inform my father that he had a daughter.  What better reason could there be?

"Oh, what is it?"  He yelled that through the door.  I didn't say anything, just waited for the picture frame to open and for me to be allowed inside.  

He stopped muttering under his breath about sleep and decent times and such.  Stared at me for a moment.  

"Andrews?  What are you doing out of bed?"  

"I needed to speak with my Head of House, Professor."  Desperately.

"Very well.  Enter."  I would if you would just move out of the way.  

"Thank you Professor."  Squeezed by him.  

"What is it?"  

I fiddled with the journal at my lap, flipping to one particular page.  

"Professor . . . I think you need to read this.  Right there."  I couldn't bear to actually say it myself.  Better for him to read it.  

He quickly scanned the page.  "Is this a joke, Andrews?  I don't find it very amusing.  Perhaps you should return to bed and come to detention for the rest of the year."  

"But – "  I stopped.  I knew he'd reject me.

"This page is completely blank.  I don't know the meani-"  

"But it isn't!  It's right – " The page had turned blank.  All of them.  My mother's words – gone.  I felt like curling into a fetal position and crying for all I was worth.  

I would have to tell himself now.  Without the aid of the journal.  Would he believe me?  I watched him start to return to his bedchamber.  

"Professor.  I lied to you earlier."  That stopped him.  

"My mother wasn't just Arriana Chekiv.  She was also Arriana Azelophe.  She had a child.  Me."  They had secretly married while she was apprenticing with Professor McGonnagal.  

That quirk of his eyebrow.  He looked . . . shocked.  Almost . . . glaring at me.

"I think that it is time that you return to your room."  Said softly, I could barely hear it.  

I ran up the dungeon stairs.   

I hope you enjoyed that.  Next update hopefully – keep your fingers crossed – in a few days.  Thanks for all your reviews!! 


	13. Incense and Peppermints

Disclaimer:  After many attempts of bribery, flattery, and a bit of treachery, J.K. has relinquished her rights to Harry Potter.  Of course, this all happened in a land far away from here and is not applicable on the planet Earth.  If you do happen to go the planet Aerye, then I do own Harry Potter.  But unless you want to make such a trip – it's awhile away, be prepared with travel games – then I do not own it.  Besides, you wouldn't want to sue me anyway.  But I'll give the car to you for free, to rid myself of it.

Anyway, onwards to the chapter.  Be forewarned that it's not very long, and probably not what you all want.  However, so I don't get cursed beyond all recognition, I decided to post this one now.  Next one, maybe in a few days, maybe tomorrow. 

Chapter 13: Incense and Peppermints

I ran from the dungeons – hot tears falling that I didn't bother to dash away.

What had I been thinking?  That he'd be oh-so-happy to know that he had a daughter?  That he would grab me in a hug and we'd all live happily-ever-after, with magic rays of sunshine, incense, and peppermints?  Wait, that's not him nor is it me.  

But I did want – him to accept me.  To even – love me?  Yeah, that's it.  

But – this – he was Professor Snape.  The coldest Professor that Hogwart's has ever had.  I suppose his – reaction was rather – controlled.  For him.  

I made it to the Astronomy Tower before my sobs finally overtook me and I crumbled.  

He didn't want me.

Just as I knew he would, he sent me away.  

Perhaps my mother didn't know him as well as she thought.  She said he'd accept me.  And now – all I have left of her . . . gone.  All her words.  Every page, blank.  

I looked out into the night.  I didn't bother with an invisibility charm – I could have cared less if I was caught.  Getting into trouble would take my mind off of – this. 

He didn't want me.  

I slammed my fist into the wall.  

Bad idea.  Oww.  It only added physical pain.  

I heard footsteps.  Voices.  

Hermione, Ron, and Harry.  But I didn't see anyone.  Damn cloak. 

Planning . . . something.  I didn't hear all of it.  Their steps came closer – I was still staring out into the darkness. 

A hand on my shoulder.  

I jumped.  No one was there –  

"Sorry, Alexandra.  What are you doing up here?"   The cloak fell away. 

I stared at Hermione for a moment.  "He knows."  Blank stares from Harry and Ron.  

"What – oh.  How'd he take it?"  

"Told me to return to my room."  The boys were staring at each other, then looked at us, then looked back at each other.  Clearly confused.  

I didn't feel like enlightening them.

"Maybe . . . maybe he had to think about it."  

"Maybe."  Noncommittal.  Besides, this is Snape.  Nothing shocks him.  But this was big – little voice inside my head says.  I told it to be quiet; I wanted to wallow in my misery for a few moments more.  

"It's a lot to take in."  I suppose so.  

"Maybe."  A moment more.  "You're right.  But now what am I going to do?  He knows.  And the journal – all the pages are blank.  When he went to read it."  

"We can research that.  Just give him time.  It's a pretty big – "

"What are you two bloody talking about – " Ron.

"Girl stuff."  It worked the last time.

"I think this is something bigger than 'girl stuff'".  Harry.  

"She'll tell you when she's ready if she wants."  Bless you, Hermione.  "It's late.  We should be going to bed now."  

The three went underneath the cloak again.  

"Goodnight."  

I stayed in the Tower for a little while longer.  

More footsteps.  

Does anyone in this place actually sleep?

I looked to where the sounds came from – Professor Dumbledore.

"Hi Professor.  I was just off to bed now."  

"I know that it was a difficult thing to do, Alexandra."  Bloody well it was.  Damn telepathic wizard – thinks he knows everything – can't I have one single thought to myself? – damn him.

"Yes, it was.  I shouldn't have told him."  He didn't say anything to that.  So I was right.  

"You're quite wrong about that, Alexandra." Yep, no thoughts were safe from him. "He has the right to know.  And you have the right for him to know."  

"He doesn't want me."  

"He does, child.  He's never admit it aloud but he's been – needing – someone.  He just has to think."  Think, think, think.  He has to think.  Well, damn it, I didn't want him to think.  I wanted – immediate acceptance.

"I'm tired, Professor.  I think it's time I should be going to bed."  

"Yes, yes.  Of course.  Goodnight, Alexandra."  I turned to go.  "I will request that you speak with me – later this morning."  I nodded and ran to the Slytherin dorms.  

There was no way I was going to sleep.  

I looked over to where the other girls were already snoring.  

It wouldn't be good if I left again.  

But I had to.  Had to know how he really felt.  

I snuck out of the rooms again, casting an invisibility charm.  

A/N:  That's enough for now, I think.  Anymore and the chapter's not going to be very good.  (Not that this one is brilliant, but that's all right).  Hope you all enjoyed!  Kudos if you know where the chapter title is from.  Inspired by my beta-reader – Muse.  She doesn't like the title beta-reader.  And she's not Harry Potter oriented, just overall story-writing, that kind of thing.  If anyone thinks I need one, then I'll be pleased to accept their services.  


	14. Acceptance?

I apologize for taking so long with this chapter.  The evil gremlins that masquerade as my professors decided to torment me a lot with exams and homework and all that fun stuff.  I also want to thank all my reviewers!  I love reading them.

Disclaimer/Anti-Suing-Me-Charm:  I don't own it.  You wouldn't want anything I have anyway.  

Chapter 14:  Acceptance?

He wasn't there.  I knocked on the portrait and was told, quite rudely, that he wouldn't be back for some time and if I "didn't leave immediately, Filch would be contacted".  I ran—no way did I want a detention with Filch.

By the time I returned to the common room, it was nearly dawn.  I got ready for class and then sat reading at the fire. 

"What are you doing up this early?"  The voice vaguely penetrated my mind.  I returned to reading after glaring at the questioner.

"I'm talking to you, mudbl—" a whispered _Silencio_ and the swish and flick of my wand stopped him.  He struggled to free himself.  I finished the chapter.  

"You know, Malfoy, all you have to do is relax and imagine yourself speaking.  Stop struggling so much."  I didn't want him to do permanent damage . . . though I wouldn't be too upset if he did.

"You're going to pay for that, mudblood."  His eyes widened—he was staring at something behind me.  "Professor, she was—"

"I don't wish to hear it, Malfoy.  My daughter is not a 'mudblood', as you so eloquently put it.  And if you wish to stay in good graces, you'd best not mention this to anyone.  Am I understood?"  Malfoy was staring even more now.  "Have I made myself clear?!"

"Yes, sir.  Of course.  Perfectly."  Great, now Malfoy knows.  

"Come with me, An—" A sigh.  "Alexandra."  He called me by my first name—miracles do happen.  But I was angry.

"No thank you—Professor.  I'm perfectly alright where I am."

"Perhaps you mistook that as a request?  Come with me."  Damn him.  

I followed him, not really paying much attention to where I was being led.  Lamb to the slaughter, maybe?  

But no—we were standing outside of Professor Dumbledore's office.  

"Honeyduke's chocolates."  The man positively smirked at the password.  

I followed him up the staircase.  Professor Dumbledore was standing near the phoenix.  I went to pet Fawkes.

"Albus—"

"You wish to tell me that Alexandra is, in fact, your daughter."  

"But Albus—"

"Yes, I knew."

"Albus—"

"It was her right to tell you."  

"If—"

"No, I don't think you would.  Besides, isn't it amusing?"  Yes, it was.  

"If you don't bloody allow me to finish a sentence, I just might."  

"I believe you just accomplished that.  Satisfied?"  A twinkle in the Headmaster's eye.  I laughed aloud; Fawkes had found his way onto my shoulder.  They looked at me then—they must have forgotten my presence—and Dumbledore smiled at me.  Snape—my father . . . I could have sworn he was trying not to smile.  His mouth twitched.

"She's safe here, Severus."  

"Perhaps.  But if Voldemort learned of her existence . . . he would use her to control me, you know that."  Yeah, and if you knew who my uncle was . . . 

"Alexandra, you'll have to curb your midnight excursions."  

"Excursions, me?  I would never go out after curfew.  You've the wrong person."  More smiles and nods and a bunch of signals that I saw but didn't know what they really meant.  "Oh, alright.  No more midnight excursions."  Hadn't I promised that earlier?  And look how well that turned out.  

 "You will keep that promise, Alexandra."  He really wasn't any fun.  Truly.  

"I'm safe here at Hogwarts."  

"Even the impenetrable has been breached before.  It's vital that you are kept safe.  If Voldemort held you . . . I shudder to think of the consequences."  I debated about telling them the full truth of my heritage.   

Would they even believe me?  

Would they be so concerned?  

"We will fortify the charms and wards, Severus, even more so than before.  She will be safe."

"I hope that you are correct in that, Albus."  Then he turned to me.  "My daughter and I have . . . much to discuss.  Including," he glared at me, "wandering the corridors at night."  

"Yes, of course.  We will discuss other details later, at your convenience."  Do these people never stop planning?  

"Yes.  Later.  Alexandra, I must ask you to leave Fawkes here."  I had started out of the office, not really paying attention to the fantastic bird on my shoulder.  

I turned back and urged Fawkes to go back to his perch.  I gently touch his feathers, he nuzzled his beak against me.

"You may visit with Fawkes any time, Alexandra."  I nodded and whispered a thank you.  And followed my father—who apparently wasn't going to reject me like I had thought—to the Great Hall.  

"I must leave you now, Alexandra.  Other students will be coming in shortly."  I nodded acceptance.  

He went to sit at the Head Table, where Dumbledore already was.  Surprised me to see him there so quickly.  

I sat down near the head of the Slytherin table, where I normally sat.  

Everyone came in a few minutes later and breakfast began.  

I looked up occasionally to see him watching me.  And then his eyes traveled to someone else at my table.  I moved slightly and accidentally elbowed the person next to me—but normally no one would sit with me.  

I turned to face my mystery companion, and groaned.  

Malfoy.  

"I won't tell anyone, mud-um-Alexandra."  The whisper was extremely relieving.  Really.  "Watch what you're doing, Andrews!"  That was more like it.  I grinned almost and looked back at my father.  

He had the oddest expression on his face that I couldn't explain.  

I would ask him about it later when we talked. 

More soon.  


	15. Something to Talk About

Disclaimer:  Not mine.  There, you made me say it.  

Chapter 15:  Something to Talk About

I left the Great Hall for my first class, which was my oh-so-fun Arithmancy class.  I was doing much better in it though—Hermione had convinced me to take semi-decent notes, and that helped.  And her explaining the theories and such actually made some sense.  But I still wished I could take something else.  Anything else, really.  

My next one was Transfiguration—with our constant companions, the Gryffindors.  By Merlin's beard, didn't they realize that by putting two Houses together that absolutely detested each other was just asking for trouble?

We were transfiguring people into books.  

McGonnagal had us pair with someone—from a different House—to transfigure.  I lucked out and got Hermione.  Malfoy was paired with Harry, while Ron was paired with Crabbe.  Goyle was inflicted on Neville (or is that the other way around?).

"Pay attention, now.  Say _Humus livros _very clearly, facing your partner.  And please do decide which will be going first.  If anyone should happen to make a mistake, please call me over immediately to reverse the spell."  

Shouts of _Humus livros _filled the room.  Hermione managed to change me into a book—but that was hardly surprising, since she was so infatuated with them.  I turned her into something that could, possibly, if you squinted long enough, be termed a book.  Malfoy turned Harry into a book, but didn't transfigure him back until almost the end of class.  Neville managed to change Goyle into a rat—rather fitting, really—which Professor McGonnagal quickly reversed.  

We left for lunch, which was downed rather quickly.  My next class was Double Potions.  And I was relieved that I no longer had to hide the truth from him.  It was much easier to keep it from the rest of the students. 

I was there first.  Set up my cauldron and got the supplies that I would need—the directions were already on the board.  A cheering potion.  Rather easy.  

He swept in after the Gryffindors were on their side and the Slytherins on theirs.  Segregation at its best.

"As this is a simple potion, I expect it to be done flawlessly.  You are, after all, fourth years and should be showing some signs of competence.  However, for those who cannot get a simple cheering potion correct, know that you will be spending a full day's detention with Mr. Filch."  Yikes.  He's definitely back to being the grouchy greasy git that we all know and lo-well, know.  Neville looked at Hermione for help, but she was already working with Ron.  Then he looked at me.  

How did he survive passing through the other years—oh, right.  Hermione.  

"You will be working on your own today."  That sealed it—Neville was going to have a detention with Filch.  Unless, just possibly, he wouldn't—

Bam!  A potion all over the floor and Neville, along with a few of the people who had the unlucky tables next to him.

They all started to break out in red spots.  "Mr. Longbottom.  Perhaps it would be wise to place you in a bubble, so that the devastation that you cause would not be inflicted on others."  With that, he sent all those who were exposed to the potion—a thick, purplish creation—to the hospital wing.  "Potter, clean that mess up.  Thirty points from Gryffindor for your classmate's inabilities."  

He started to write, occasionally glancing up at me.  I finished and waited.  Harry finished his potion rather quickly.  It even looked semi-right.  "Miss Andrews, Potter—if you are done, you may work on your potions project."  I smiled, he smirked.  

Everyone eventually finished their potions, with time to spare.  Scratches of quill to parchment, as everyone made plans for their projects.  Harry and I decided to meet tomorrow in the library to work on it.

"Andrews, if you would stay for a few moments."  The rest of the class looked at me with some sympathy, while others were smirking.  But I didn't care, because I knew what was going to happen. 

Father and daughter would finally have a talk.

I sat across from him.  He waved his wand and muttered a sound-proofing charm.  At least no one would be able to listen in on our conversation.  

"I will preface this with saying that you are not to be wandering the corridors, ever, unless with someone else.  Do you understand?"

"It's unnecessary.  It's safe here.  But I do understand.  No wandering."

"You'll ensure that you are in the company of someone at all times."  I nod.  "You can't call me 'father' in public . . . but, I would be . . . honored, if you would do so in private."  I'd think about that.  I nod again.  "Any questions?"  

"You were a Death Eater?  You followed Voldemort?"  

"Yes, I suspect you already know that.  But now I am a spy for the Light.  Which is why it is essential that no one know of our relationship."  Or my relationship with Voldemort, but I didn't mention that.

"What about Malfoy?  And what was with the looks you were giving me after he sat next to me?"

"Malfoy is . . . dangerous.  I sense that he does not want to be a Death Eater, but he is his father's child.  And Lucius is a most able and . . . loyal Death Eater."  Loyal and Death Eater in the same sentence, who knew.  "It would be wise to avoid him if possible."  I nodded.  I didn't like him too much anyway.  

"He's not my favorite person in the world."  

A smirk.  "No, I didn't think that he was."  He hesitated.  "Any other questions?"  I shook my head.  Sure, what would you say if you found out that Voldemort didn't really kill my mother, that was all a ruse, because she was his half-sister, and didn't want her to join his ranks until he found she was pregnant, with me?  "Is there anything you wish to tell me?"  

"No.  Nothing."  

He nodded his head, only slightly, so that I almost missed it.  

"You look like your mother."  I smiled.  

"I've got your eyes."  

"Yes, indeed you do."  

"Do you know . . . why the words in the journal disappeared?  They haven't come back."  

"No, I don't know why, Alexandra.  I'll see what I can find about it."  I sighed.  The one thing I had of my mother, and it no longer intact.  "I do have something . . . that she might have wanted you to have."  I looked up.  He took something out of a pocket.  "I've kept this with me since—since she died.  I do believe she would want you to have it."  He reached out and placed it in my hand.

A necklace.  A sapphire on a silver chain.  I put it on.  "Thank you . . . father."  He smiled—only slightly—but it was there.  

"You're welcome, Alexandra."  

A silence.  Rather comfortable too.  

He cleared his throat.  "I believe it's time for you to return to your next class, Miss Andrews."  I nodded.   

"Yes, Professor."  I turned to leave, and before he took off the sound-proofing charm, "I'm glad I told you."  

The whispered "I'm glad you did too" barely heard before, "Good day, Miss Andrews."  

I left the dungeons.  

Well, hope you all enjoyed it.  Not sure when the next update will be—classes are almost done for the semester, which means that finals are coming up and I really should study for them.  Happy Holidays in case it doesn't get updated until after Thanksgiving.  (I'm hoping to get another chapter out in a week or so.  Maybe my Muse will be kind to me.)


	16. Letters and Wandering

Disclaimer:  Still don't own it.

Warning:  This chapter's a bit strange. 

Chapter 16: Letters and Wandering

Letters were delivered to me by my parents' owl, Duff. Duff was getting old, but 

was still reliable. You just never knew exactly when a letter or package would 

reach the intended. My father watched as Draco sat beside me again. 

"You're going to ruin your reputation, Malfoy. Sitting with the resident 

mudblood of Slytherin." 

"You and I both know how true that is, Alexandra." I nodded. "Don't worry, your 

secret is safe with me." Nope, didn't believe that one for a second. I thought 

about using a memory charm. I would ask Snape's advice later. 

I ate while I read my first letter, from Mum and Da.

Darling Alexandra,

We hope that you are enjoying Hogwarts. We've received notification of your vast improvement in Arithmancy and are very proud of you. It's not a wasted subject, no matter your protest. We've a little surprise for you, but we're letting your brother explain it. Continue to study hard, Lexie. 

Love,

Mum and Da

I placed it to the side while I read my next one, from Taylor.

Hey sis!

Guess what. Mum and Da have decided that it would be best if I finished my year at Hogwart's. You know that's cause they have to do what they do. And of course they won't explain it really. I'll be coming sometime tonight, to be 'Sorted'. I 

wouldn't mind making Slytherin, to be with you. 

Love,

Taylor

I could hardly contain my excitement when the doors to the Great Hall opened and 

there they were—Mum, Da, Taylor, and William. William's about five years older 

than I am and completely done with home-schooling. 

I ignored the strange looks and ran to hug them. People that actually liked me 

were here! We walked down the center aisle together. Professor McGonnagal tapped her spoon against her glass and called for our attention.

"May I have your attention please. Tonight we will have a new student in his 

third year, Taylor Andrews, and he will need to be Sorted." I went to sit back 

at the Slytherin table. 

My parents had to leave before he was Sorted, along with William. I received a 

hug and kiss from each of them before they left. 

Taylor was called up to the front and told to sit on the stool. The Sorting Hat 

was placed on his head and it quickly cried out, "RAVENCLAW!" 

I clapped for him. He fit Ravenclaw perfectly, definitely more brainy than I 

ever was or will ever be. He smiled over at me and I smiled back.  The Ravenclaw table clapped for him loudly. He would make friends there.

.

I turned back to my half-eaten meal. Draco was still sitting next to me. 

Watching. 

"You look like him." I nodded. "And that temper of yours." I nodded again. 

"And—"

"Is there a point to all of this, Draco? I'm not so foolish to not think you 

have ulterior motives, besides getting it in with a Professor's daughter."

"I'm hurt. I truly am." He looked at me, and then asked, "Don't you trust me?" Trust a blond devil? A Death Eater's son? 

Wait. I'm a Death Eater's daughter. 

"I don't think I should, Malfoy." 

"Probably not." I could just hear his thoughts—but you do. I know what he's 

about now. My father is supposedly Voldemort's right-hand man, besides Lucius. 

Of course he wants to find favor. He probably believes Voldemort knows exactly 

who I am. I laughed slightly at that. I don't think anyone living knows exactly 

who I am. 

My father's looking at me. Staring, glaring, same difference. I know what it's 

about too. Malfoy's a bit . . . close, whispering in my ear. 

"I've already promised I won't tell, Alexandra." Of course, I'm supposed to 

trust that. 

I look over where Taylor is—he's surrounded by people, all laughing and talking. 

He looks strange over there, his facial expression closed even with his smile. I 

wondered at that—it was so not a Taylor thing. His smile seemed almost—forced. 

He's probably being grilled about his Slytherin-adopted-mudblood-sister.

Draco's moved onto sitting with his normal-um-friends. Goons, the lot of them. 

I watched the enchanted ceiling for awhile, distracted now to the point where 

eating was an impossibility. When I looked down again, towards the Head Table, 

my father had an odd expression on his face. He turned to say something to the 

Headmaster, and then he quickly left the Great Hall. 

No one really noticed, though Hermione looked over at me. I shrugged. Of course 

I had no idea where he was going or why. 

I looked over at Draco and he was desperately trying not to look at me. I didn't 

understand why at first. Then it dawned on me—Draco might know just exactly why 

he left so early and abruptly. 

I didn't really think about it anymore—my appetite was already ruined, my 

concentration didn't need to go with it. 

I got up before the meal ended and left. 

No way was I going to stay around the Great Hall, sitting and wondering. 

I wandered for awhile. The castle seemed content to let me go my way, the stairs 

for once not moving. 

I was in a section of the castle that I didn't even know existed.

It looked older than the rest. Cobwebs and dust everywhere. No one had come down 

here in ages, I suppose. At least I didn't have to worry about any prefects or 

professors. 

I came across a room. 

It was green and silver, like the Slytherin common room, almost. There were paintings along the walls, most slumped in sleep. As I walked around, the 

pictures woke. 

I began to notice a trend—they were the same people. Ages were different but all 

alike in resemblance. 

"My dear child! I thought never to see you again." The woman spoke. 

"Y-you know who I am!" 

"Of course I do, Alexandra. Of course I do." She stared at me intently, "I am 

your mother after all." I almost fainted at that. But I gripped at a convenient 

chair and caught myself. "Are you alright, dear?" I nodded. 

"Yes, thank you." 

"So your adoptive parents taught you manners, I thought that they would. Hoped 

so." 

"Yes." 

"Were they good to you?" 

I nodded again. "Very. The first ones . . . they died in a car crash. Were 

muggles. The second ones—Mum and Da, I call them—they're a half-wizarding 

family. The Andrews." 

"The Andrews?" The first time that my picture-father spoke. "There was an 

Andrews a year behind me . . ." 

"Yes. That would have been Da." 

We talked for awhile longer, then I went to another painting. It was of my 

mother, alone. 

"Come a bit closer, dear. I don't want the others to hear what I must say." 

I went closer. A whispered conference with a painting that had me almost 

fainting again. 

I flew up the stairs after that—information—back to the common room.

By the time I arrived, most were already in their own rooms. Only a few were 

sitting in the common room. 

"What's wrong, Alexandra?" Draco again. "You're looking—very pale." 

"N-nothing. I just had the most informative conversation with . . . "

"With?" he prodded.

"Paintings!" I ran up to my room before he could respond. I was going crazy. 

Insane. Definitely. 

What that painting had said . . . the thought sent shivers down my spine. 

I tried to sleep, but that wasn't working well. 

I cast an invisibility charm and went to my father's. 

Well, that's enough for now. Typing in the car and the battery's about to die. 

Hope you enjoyed. 

Thanks to all my reviewers! 

Hope the whole talking-to-paintings-thing didn't scar anyone. It's strange what 

an imagination can come up with.


	17. Death Eater Banquet

Disclaimer:  Don't own it.  She won't sell.  ::Sniff::

Chapter 17:  Voldemort

He wasn't there.  I knocked again.  

"Oh, do quit that.  He's not to be disturbed.  Go away."  The threat of Filch was implied, but me being me, I ignored it.  

"I want to see him."  

"You'll see him in class next week.  Go away."  

"I want to see him."  I glared.  "Now."  

"You look just like him when you do that."  I glared again.  "Yes, exactly like that."  

"And how do you know?"

"We talk.  Rumors and such.  But you aren't a rumor, now are you?"  

"No.  I want to see him."  

"You need his password.  He obviously hasn't given it to you, and he's not to be disturbed.  Go away."  

Why am I even arguing with a portrait?  

I've had to have learned something that will help me out in this situation.  

I thought for awhile, sitting with my legs folded underneath me, trying to figure out what could get me past his password.  

"Filch is coming."  

I shrugged, assured that my invisibility charm was intact. Let him come.  

It wasn't Filch.  

Malfoy.  What was he doing wandering the corridors?  

What was I doing wandering the corridors? 

I shook my head in an effort to clear it.  

"I know someone's here.  Reveal yourself."  Yeah, right.  I'll be doing that.  He looked around a moment.  

"Alexandra?  Is it you?  Why don't you show yourself?"  

He sounded…different.  Like he was saying words but didn't know what he was saying.  Odd.  

"I thought you might want to know where your father was."  He knew?  

Of course he knew.  He's Draco.  A Malfoy.  A Death Eater's son, a soon-to-be one as well.  

"Reveal yourself!"  His voice rose, angry tones inflected in it.  Yeah, sure.  I'll reveal myself.  "You do want to know where he is, don't you?"  Of course I do.  But there's no way I'm trusting him.  No way.  "He's a Death Eater, you know.  Where do you think he is?"  I know he's a Death Eater—but an ex-one.  He's a spy—did Volde—er-You-Know-Who—find out?  

No…he couldn't have.  

I went back to thinking of possible ways to get into his room.  I'd have to wait for Malfoy to leave first.  

Then—a light and something whispered and I was no longer invisible.  

I was no longer in Hogwarts.  

I turned—struggled against my captor.  

Draco looked pleased with himself.  Smug.  I went to cast a spell that would make him think twice of ever doing that again and—my wand was gone.  

He fiddled with it, circling his fingers around it, twirling it.  

"Not very good of you to lose this, now is it?  What would your father say?"  I glared.  

"Truly, no one but a Snape could master that glare."  I was frantically thinking of how I could retrieve my wand when another person Apparated to where ever we were.  

"Crucio."  

If I had thought that the attack on me previously hurt, I didn't know truly know pain until then.  I began to convulse.  Draco had started to kneel by my side, but the man spoke.

"Leave her."  He hesitated, then went to the opposite side of the clearing.  

The curse was lifted from me.  I came back to consciousness in gasps of pain.  

"Our Master wished to teach her what she would feel if she doesn't obey.  Come, he waits.  Get up, girl.  Mustn't keep him waiting." 

I struggled to my feet.  "You'll pay for that—"

"I think not."  The man grabbed my wrist and Apparated again.  

To a room furnished with expensive things.  

"Sit down, Alexandra Snape.  Our Master wishes to speak with you—and your errant father."  

"How did you—"

"My son is very obedient.  Unlike others."  He left the room.  

Interesting that I was placed in this—this 'room', he calls it.  It could very well be considered a home on its own.  Especially interesting that he places me here—after the curse.  I was still shivering from the effects, aching.  

It'd take more than a simple pain-relief potion to take care of this.  

My errant father?  

Did that mean—Voldemort knew what he was?  I dismissed that thought.  Why would he bring me into this if he knew that my father was a spy?

Maybe Voldemort was upset with him for not informing him of my existence?  Likely.  

My thoughts were disturbed by the door opening on its own.  

My father entered.  Gave me a sign not to come over to him.  I nodded my head slightly.  Didn't want to show more of our relationship than the coincidence of the same blood.  

The man came in next and then was followed by another clothed in black.  

He emanated pure evil.  

Voldemort.  

Cliff-hanger, I know.  Sorry.  I decided to post this half because I'm not sure when the rest of it will be coming.  I'm going in for surgery Wednesday, so it'll all depend on how much they drug me J and how much I've written.  Right now, the rest of it's only a page, and not very good place to end the chapter, which is why this spot was chosen.  Hope you all enjoyed! 

Remember that I have an update notification on yahoo groups if you want to know when I've updated.  

The site is:   http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Eccoscribbles


	18. Voldemort

Disclaimer:  Still not mine.  

Warnings:  Strictly AU—especially with this chapter.  This Voldemort has been reincarnated into a younger version, in his thirties or so.  We'll get to the how later, in the sequel.  

Chapter 18:  Voldemort

He wasn't what I expected.  

He didn't have the skin of a snake.

No fangs, no gleaming red eyes, nothing.  He was a beautiful man, in his mid-thirties, I'd guess.  Black hair, hazel eyes.  Tall.  

He gestured for me to sit in front of him.  My father had gone over to the window.  Malfoy stood next to Voldemort, acting like his valet.  Voldemort made himself comfortable.  

"I must say, you are a surprise."  

"You're not."  Nope, he wasn't a surprise.  He radiated evil.  His looks may have been different, but that didn't make one change for his nature.  

"Careful, child.  You don't wish to anger me."  

I smiled.  "What if you anger me?"  My father looked at me sharply, but didn't say anything.

"You permit your child to speak to Our Lord like that, Severus?"  Voldemort was silent, watching. 

"My daughter has never been controlled by me.  Nor likely will she."  He's right about that.  No way would he ever control what I did or said.  

I nodded my agreement to that statement.  "What am I doing here?"  

Voldemort answered.  "To take your rightful place among us."  Thank you, but no.  

"My place isn't with you."  

Perhaps I shouldn't have said that.  Malfoy slapped my face.  "You do not speak to Our Lord that way!"  

"I just did."  Ok, swallow the fear.  Keep going like this, don't back down.  Remember to breathe.  "Silencio!"  Wonderful.  No more Malfoy interruptions.  "Your son doesn't like that curse either."  He glared.  

A sound of applause.  "Bravo, child, bravo.  You'd do well in my ranks."  

"I'm perfectly alright on my own, Voldemort."  His eyebrows rose.  

"You speak my name without fear."  Without fear?  No.  But I wasn't going to tell him that.  I shrugged.  

"I will give you time to accept the idea, child.  But you will join Me."  No, I don't think so.  But for the moment—

"How much time?"  

"Until I Call your father again."  

"And if I still say no?"  

"You won't."  With that, he Apparated to Who-Knows-Where.  Malfoy Apparated with him.

My father came over to me.  

"That was foolish of you, Alexandra." 

"It worked didn't it?  Granted me more time to figure something out?"  

He glared.  "Be that as it may, it was still foolish."  

"We'll return to Hogwarts by portkey."  His hand reached out to my shoulder.  A yank and we were in his rooms.  

"And now we will discuss where you will go."  Huh?  Where I will go?  "It's not safe for you here at Hogwarts."  

"If you move me, Voldemort will suspect something."  

"Perhaps.  But you will be kept safe, no matter what."  He sat down on a chair near the fire, sighing.  "This will be difficult for you, but you must cooperate with me.  The Headmaster claims that you are safe, you claim that you are safe, and yet where were you tonight?  In Voldemort's clutches.  I will not allow that to happen again."  Oh no.  He's the extremely over-protective type.  "The Andrews are still on their mission, we will have to find someone else."  

I sighed.  "I'm safe enough here as anywhere."  

"For now, go on to bed, it's rather late."  I stood.  "Won't you please reconsider?  Hogwarts is my home now."  

"I cannot.  You will be safe."  

I nodded, knowing that I wouldn't be able to change his mind, at least not tonight.  

I left his room and went to the Slytherin dormitory, whispered the password, and went to bed.  

I couldn't fall asleep.  

When I did, I dreamed.  

Awful pain in my left arm.  The Dark Mark was being burnt into it.  I bit my lip to keep from screaming.  

My father was there, standing nearby, being held by Malfoy and someone I didn't recognize.  

Voldemort whispered in my ear after the Mark was done.  

"You will be the greatest of them, child.  The greatest.  You are now Mine.  I know who you are.  I know."

I woke up screaming.  

I went to the common room, unable to sleep, unable to read.  I rubbed my arm, the memory of the pain still strong.  When I looked at it, it was an angry red.  

I sighed.  That dream wasn't going to come true.  

I wouldn't let it.  

Well, that's enough for now.  Hope you enjoyed.   Merry Christmas to all!  (Or whatever you celebrate!)


	19. Deaths

Disclaimer:  Much to my dismay, I don't own Harry Potter's world.  Alexandra is, again, a pigment of my imagination, finally being put to full color.  I hope you enjoy her as much as I do, let alone tormenting some of my favorite characters.  I do have an update notification service now on yahoo groups.  The site is:   http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Eccoscribbles.  Its intended purpose is a place to post my chapters and to let everyone know when I've updated, if anyone actually wants to know that.  Also, I'll eventually post some of my original fic there as well as anyone else's if they ask me to.  

Chapter 19:  Deaths

I brooded over their deaths—they'd only been dead a week.  Mum and Da.  

I couldn't think about them without crying.   They had been my parents from the time I was five.  I hadn't shown any magical promise until I was ten—but they loved and cared for me anyway.  They shared their home with me, their dreams, let me join in them.  

And now they were gone.  

Taylor hadn't left his room the whole time.  I couldn't bear to go to him.  To see my young brother, with eyes as red as mine and tears falling.  

No.  I couldn't.  

I wanted—revenge.  Something to show for their deaths, something that made it worth their sacrifice.  

They had been killed by their own people.  Aurors in a raid against a known group of Death Eaters.  They had been mistaken for Death Eaters.  Only after they were dead did the Ministry discover that they were in fact not Death Eaters, but the Andrews.  A family that had been involved in some of the greatest defeats of Dark Wizards throughout history.  

Who kills their own people? 

Why?  

I sighed.  

"You can get revenge on them, Alexandra."  A small voice, yet powerful in its conviction.  "Join My Lord."  

"No."  

"You can't be one of them.  Your blood lies."  

"My blood doesn't lie!"  

"You think you're Light, but you aren't.  You're as Dark as any of us."  

"I'm not!  I'm not one of you!  I won't let you—"

"Alexandra!  Wake up!"  Draco was shaking me.  

"Did you hear—"  He looked at me with a strange expression on his face.  

"You were dreaming.  Nothing more."  

"But I wasn't!  I heard—"  Sigh.  "I don't know what I heard.  But it was . . . evil."  

"Many things are."  Thank you so much, Grand Philosopher of the Malfoy family.  "But no matter what you think, I do care about you."

I shook my head.  "You care only for power and wealth and you could care less who gets in your way as long as you achieve it."  

"That's not true.  I'll prove it to you."  

"We need to go to class.  Double Potions."  

With that, I went to retrieve my books and left.  

He caught up with me.  "I'm sorry about the Andrews."  

I glared.  "I don't want to talk about it with you."  

"You'll live with your father now during the hols?"

"You didn't hear me the first time?  I. Do. Not. Want. To. Talk. To. You."  I sat down at my bench.  He sat down next to me.  

"It'll help for you to talk about it."  

"No, it won't."  

My father came in a moment later.  "Miss Andrews, I hadn't expected you to be joining us today."  

"I'm fine."  

"Wait for me in my office.  I wish to speak with you."  

"I'm FINE!"  

"Now, Miss Andrews."  

I stomped.  Truly and utterly stomped.  Reverting back to two years old or so.  

Felt surprisingly good.  

I broke a glass that was on the table.  Hurled a book across the room.  

"Redecorating?"  

I half-smiled.  

Then crumpled into his arms.  He had them waiting for me.  

"They're dead.  Gone.  I'll never see them again.  Why does everyone leave me?"  

"Shh.  It'll be alright.  I won't leave you."  

"They were killed by their own.  Their own!"  I sniffled again.  "I hate them."  

"Hate won't help, Alexandra."  He sighed.  "You've a young brother that needs you."  He hesitated a moment.  "He has no one but you left."  

I looked up in shock.  

"How?"  

"Voldemort.  He . . . didn't quite like what some of them were doing.  He ordered them all to be executed."  

"I hate them all.  I wish . . . "  I sighed.  "Can we go off to a deserted island and forget all about the wizarding world?  Please?"  

A sad laugh.  "I'm afraid that they wouldn't forget us."   

No, we would be trailed after.  Him, for being a supposed Death Eater.  Me, because Voldemort wants me to join him.

"Class is over now."  

"What?  It can't have been—"  But it was.  Two hours were gone.  I had cried and yelled and threw things for two hours with him there.  Letting me.  

"Better now?"  

I nodded.  Yes, it was better.  Not great by any standards.  But better.  

I made a promise that night which I wrote in a journal that I had started shortly after discovering my mum's.  

            _Mum and Da.  I miss you so much.  You were wonderful parents to me when you didn't have to be.  I'll watch out for __Taylor__.  I won't let anything happen to him.  I promise you that.  And—_

_            Goodbye.  _

Well, I tried not to make it too tear-jerky.  I think I might have succeeded.  

Thanks to all my reviewers!  You're wonderful!


	20. Forbidden Forests and Dark Lords

Disclaimer:  She still won't give me the rights to it, so I only own Alexandra and her mother.  Plot is mine though.  

Wow…it's been ridiculously long since I've updated.  Sorry about that.  Hope no one was biting their nails over it.  

Chapter 20:  Forbidden Forests and Dark Lords

"Alexandra, you will be leaving on the next train back to London, in two days.  Better pack quickly."  

"Where are you sending me?"  I didn't want to go, but I had tried fighting against this for the past week.  Ever since Voldemort's "invitation" and the Andrews' death, he had been making plans for me to leave Hogwart's.  

"A friend.  Name of Jason Tyler, he isn't a wizard, but he knows quite a bit about us and our world.  A Squib, and American."  

"I'm going to America?!  But-"

"No buts, Alexandra.  I am your father and as such—"

"You've never before acted like my father!  If you had really cared about my mother, you would have searched for a body—or something!  You would have been able to find me and I wouldn't have had to get close to even more people who DIED!  I wish I had never told you!" 

I ran.  

I vaguely heard him yelling for me to stop, but I blocked that from my mind and just continued.

I didn't pay much attention to where I was going.  Just anywhere away from _him_. 

Bad mistake, in hind sight.  

Dark Lords happen to like to wander the Forbidden Forest, waiting for someone to come across their paths.  

"Alexandra Snape!  What a surprise.  And I thought that my dear Slytherins were losing their touch.  Magnificent."  

"What do you mean?"  

"Oh, it was only a matter of time before you ran out here, child.  Now we can convince you to join Me."  

"I'm not joining you.  The whole killing people thing is against my rules."  I waited for a _Crucio_ to be thrown my way.

He laughed.  "Oh, you're simply delightful!"  Great, a happy psychotic killing Dark Lord.

I took my wand out, preparing to defend myself.  "Don't come any closer, Voldemort."  He might have more power than me, but I wasn't going to let him take me without a fight.  Nope, not going to happen.  

Someone came from behind and a felt a wrench around my middle—not again!—and was once again in that spacious, overly decorated room.  

I ran to one end of the room, trying desperately to distance myself.  

"Child, it will only hurt you more if you struggle."  

Like I wasn't going to struggle.  

"A moment or two of pain, then you shall be bound to me—"

"For years of it.  No, thank you!"

"How polite you are."  He came closer to my face and whispered, "It will be much easier for you, and the rest of your family, if you do this willingly."  He let that sink in, before, "You will be great, child."  A moment more, quieter than before.  "I know who you are."  

"No!  You couldn't possibly—"

"Arriana, my dear."  OK, so maybe he does know who I am. 

"She didn't join you either."  

"No…not after she learned she was pregnant.  But she was going to."  

"My mother wasn't evil!"  She wouldn't willingly join with him.  I know she wouldn't!

"No…she wasn't.  She would have been, if it hadn't been for your father.  I would have convinced her."  

"You faked her death."  

"I needed his skills despite his interference."  He came in close again, "That is one of the few reasons why he still lives."  

"You wouldn't dare!"  

He laughed again.  "My dear, silly Alexandra.  I am Lord Voldemort.  LORD VOLDEMORT!  I _dare_ anything I wish!"

"Dumbledore will stop you!"  

"No, child, he won't."  He turned to Lucius.  "Hold her down."  

I screamed.  

Well, enough for now.  Hope you enjoyed.  Thanks for your reviews, I appreciate them!

Update notification:  http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Eccoscribbles/

I update there first.  


	21. Welcome

Disclaimer:  Nothing has changed since I first started this story.  Know what that means?  I don't own it!

Claimer:  Alexandra and plot.  

Claimer: Insanity.

Chapter 21:  Welcome

_Someone HAS to find me. That's all there is to it.  Someone will find me.  I don't want this!  I don't want this—_

I scream as the wand etches his Mark, not on my arm, but my left shoulder.  I don't question why—I can barely think through the pain.  

"There, there, child.  Almost done.  This would be so much simpler if you would only—Hold still!—there.  Malfoy, hold her!"  Damn, damn, damn.  

_Why hasn't my father come?  Dumbledore?  Anyone!  _

_Please.  _

_Someone help!_

"No one is coming for you, Alexandra.  Not for a supposed mudblood."  But I'm not one.  And that's the only reason why he's doing this—isn't it?  

"Dumbledore will come.  And Harry will beat you like the coward you are, AGAIN!" 

OK, maybe I shouldn't have said that.  The pain increased.  

"You are foolish."  

"And you're old.  And evil.  And kinda stupid, really.  To think that _you_ are feared."  

Again, mouth doesn't obey mind.  

"You'll regret that."  Malfoy.  

I scream again.  Power…hate…anger…greed…

I feel what Voldemort feels.  

Scary.  

"Welcome to the Death Eaters, Alexandra." 

OK, I'm officially evil.  Happy now?  I've admitted it.  

Hope no one truly despises me after this…turn of events.  

Update notification:  http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Eccoscribbles/

I post there first.


	22. Dark Mark

Disclaimer:  I don't own Harry Potter or his world.  ::sniff:: Thanks for reminding me.

Claimer:  Alexandra, Arriana, plot

Chapter 22:  Dark Mark

It hurt.  

I didn't move after his little artwork was done.  I crawled into the fetal position and didn't budge.  

"It's for the best, child.  They would never have accepted you after…discovering…your, how shall I say?, connection with me?  Yes, yes.  That's it."  

"I wasn't willing!"  I tried rubbing it off, and when that didn't work, took my nails to it.  I winced at the pain, but I had to remove it.  

"That won't work.  It's been tried before." Voldemort turned.  "I shall…leave you, for now."  

He left the room.  

I went to the fireplace, in hopes of finding Floo powder.

No such luck.  

I didn't have a portkey.  Apparating wasn't going to work.  

How would I get out of this—hellhole? 

It burned.  Calling someone to his death or torture?

Probably.

"Please, let this be a dream."  I pinched myself.  "OK, maybe not.  Maybe it's worse than a dream, and I'm really not feeling it, cause I'm still asleep."  I pinched myself harder.  

No such luck.  

"It's just not right.  I am NOT a Death Eater.  I would never choose to be one."  

"They say talking to yourself is the first sign of insanity."  

Draco.  

I attacked.  Threw a hex at him.  Foolish Voldemort, giving me my wand back. 

He countered it.  "Relax, Alexandra.  I'm not here to hurt you."  

I snorted.  

"OK, maybe to annoy you just a little—"  

"Do you know what they did?  Did you know what they were going to do?  And why the hell are you not at Hogwart's?"  

"Yes.  Yes.  'Family problems'." 

"Why me?"  

"Why any of us?"  He looked at me, staring intensely.  "Because you are Snape's daughter.  Because you're highly skilled."   

I laughed, I couldn't help it.  

"And because we're all pawns, to keep our respective parents in line."  

I nodded through my laughter.  

Yeah, insanity, here I come.  

"Calm yourself."  

I tried, but it only made me laugh more.  

He came over to me, grabbed onto my arms.  "You'll get through this—but you've got to get a grip!"  

He leaned over me.  

And then, searing pain throughout my shoulder, traveling through the rest of my body.

"What—"

"He's Called us."  

"He knows exactly where I am.  Let him come get me."  

Draco shook his head.  "I wouldn't advise that.  _Crucio_ is not fun to experience, as you are well aware."  

OK, he was right about that.  Score: Voldemort 1, Alexandra 0.  

"Come."  

I shook my head.  No way did I want to go.  No way did I want to be what I now was—a Death Eater.  

But what did I do?  I followed Draco down the corridor, to the room where Voldemort and the rest were waiting.  

OK, I really need to go to sleep now, so I'm going to post this as it stands.  Am I going to live through the curses and hexes being sent my way?  (I kind of have to, in order to finish the story…)

Thanks for your reviews!!


	23. The Call

Disclaimer:  After much deliberation, negotiation, bargaining, and begging, she STILL won't let me have it.  Hmph.  

Claimer:  Alexandra, plot

Chapter 23:  The Call

Draco had convinced me that it was in my best interests not to ignore the Call, but damn, Moldy-Voldy could have used his legs and gotten me rather than giving me that burning pain.

He probably enjoys it.

I sighed.  Draco looked back at me.  A foreign expression on his face—one that I had never seen before.  Concern, pity.  

"It'll be alright.  No one really has to know."  

I shrugged.  It didn't really matter anyway.  My friends would desert me once they found out that I was Snape's daughter and Voldemort's niece.  Yeah, my life sucked.  

Maybe Hermione.  She already knew that I was Snape's daughter and a Slytherin to boot.  Perhaps.

But now I had the Death Eaters and their psychotic leader to contend with.

And an angry father.  A Snape.  An angry Snape.

If the wizarding world didn't kill me, or if I don't die from angering Voldemort, or if I am killed for refusing to do whatever it is that they have planned, he's going to kill me.

And that thought frightened me almost more than the other possibilities.

Sigh.  

Draco looked back again.  "We're here."

I nodded.  "I don't want to go in."  No way did I want to go in.  I wanted to run.  Wanted to scream and shout and throw a tantrum the likes they hadn't seen.  I wished that Voldemort hadn't done this to me.  I rubbed my arm, the magical tattoo still burning.

Draco pulled the hood to cover his face and gestured for me to do the same.  Now we would be like how they were—faceless, nameless.  

Except they would know who I was.  I was shorter than most of them, and they knew Voldemort's plans.  The ones that he had cared to share at least.

I sighed again.  I so did not want this.

No one spoke; they all waited as we entered.  

Someone applauded.  

I glared at them, but with the hood, no one noticed.  

Voldemort knew that it was me.  

Everyone did.  

Secret identity and anonymity only work when no one knows.  

I looked around the room, searching for my father.  

I recognized his way of standing, his arms crossed, the perfect posture.  

Voldemort came over to me.  Leant down and whispered, "Wise decision, my dear child.  You wouldn't have enjoyed what I would have been forced to do."  Even quieter still.  "My sister didn't like it much either."  

How the hell did he know?  

Then I remembered the previous phrases before, the dreams.  How long had he known?

"Since you went to Hogwarts, child."  

What?  And I know I didn't say that one aloud.  "Your face is quite readable.  We shall have to remedy that."  

I glared at him before realizing that perhaps he is one person that I shouldn't glare at.

He laughed.  He spoke to the room at large, "Definitely Snape's child."  Then a moment more.  "But much prettier."  

Then his gaze turned to Draco.  "Wouldn't you agree?" 

Looking at me, Draco nodded, saying yes quickly.  Afraid to cross psycho-one.  

"Yes…quite pretty."  

I shuddered.  Maybe this really was a dream?  I'd wake up in the Slytherin dorms, protected by my usual array of anti-room-mates spells.  

No such luck.  

I glared again, took out my wand.  This had to stop.  

"No!"  My father's voice, then he was standing in front of me.  "She meant nothing by it, my Lord."  My Lord?  My father calls him Voldie my Lord?  

But instead of becoming angry with me, his anger was directed at my father.  

"You should teach your child better manners, Severus."  He looked at him, an intent stare.  "But perhaps this will help you to teach her.  _Crucio_."  

My father dropped to the floor, shaking, convulsing.  But he didn't make a sound.  

I knelt by his side.  "Take it off of him."  

"My dear, he needs to learn his lesson."  Yes, and you need to show your so-called power over the rest, and who better than one of your closest?  

"Take it off."  I prepared myself for dueling.  He took it off of my father, and I made sure that there was no permanent damage before standing.  And then I took a step closer to Voldemort, taking out my wand again.

"Alex—"  Draco.  

"No.  No.  NO.  I'm not going to allow him to do this to us anymore.  I'm NOT!"  I felt the power build within me, the anger fueling it even more.  

A wind swept into the room, circling me.  

God, what was this?  It felt like…like fire poured into my veins.  Tracing its way throughout me.  I shook my head, trying to clear it.  The windows shattered.  

Every window in the mansion. 

Then I shuddered, my whole body convulsing.  

Dropped to the ground.  

In the moments before I passed out, I heard snatches of words.

"Why we wanted"—"powerful"—"raw dark magic…"—"Dumbledore won't expect—" Then I was gone, off to the land of incense and peppermints. 

Phew.  I haven't written anything with Alexandra in awhile, been concentrating on a Buffy/Kindred the Embraced/Highlander/Original Character crossover that I'm now adding Charmed to.  

Hope you enjoyed.  


	24. Return

Disclaimer:  Do we really need to go through with this anymore?  Not mine.  Hmph.  Bribery doesn't work well anymore.  

Warning:  Short.  But longer than some of the previous chapters.  Yeah!

Chapter 24:  Return

I woke up slowly, trying to regain my senses.  Hard floor underneath me.  No wonder my back ached.  Something soft and warm next to me.  Wait.  Soft and warm?  I look from the corner of my eye.  Draco!  

How in the world did he get in my room?  And why was I on the floor?  

Oh right.  Voldemort.  Dark Mark.  Magical outburst.

He stirred next to me.  I tried to move his hand away—and I didn't want to think about where it had been—without him waking. 

You would think they would have moved me.  Right, Voldemort or Malfoy having consideration?  And why was Draco still there?  He lived here; would have thought he would have gone to his own room.

Sigh.  And my father…where had he gone?  Back to Hogwarts, probably.  Had to keep up appearances.

I didn't want to think about what he would say.  He would know that it hadn't been willingly done; but still, it was there.  Burned occasionally, reminding me of its presence.  

I rubbed it absently.  What was I going to do?  Surely my absence would have been noticed by now.  If I was lucky, they'd come rescue me soon.

"It'll be alright, Lexie."  Startled me, damn him.  I shook.  'Lexie.'  What my parents and brothers called me.  What would they think?  At least they didn't have to live knowing that I was a Death Eater, however unwilling it was.

"And where did you come up with that theory, Einstein?"  

He looked vaguely confused, then, "Oh, brilliant wizard except he chose to live among muggles."

"That didn't answer my question, Malfoy."  He was visibly restraining his temper.  I applauded.  He glared.  I glared back. 

He lowered his eyes first.  "Because I've lived with it, Lexie.  All my life I knew what my father was; what I would be expected to be.  It won't be 'normal' but somehow I don't think you care for normality."  

"Normality."  I snorted.  With the most hated professor as my father and the dark He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named as my uncle?  Hah.  

"He'll understand."  I sighed.  "It wasn't as if you had a choice, you know.  He wasn't willing to let you die and he wasn't going to let you leave without it."  

"Gee, Sherlock."  Confused look.  I grinned.  Perhaps tormenting Death Eaters with muggle references would be worth it.  Something to look into.

We lapsed into silence.  A knock on the door.

Malfoy.

Wand came out.  

"I would not do that if I were you.  The Dark Lord would not appreciate losing one of his most loyal and prized Death Eaters."

"I'm sure he'd get over the loss."  

The man smiled.  Creepy.

"You are to go back to Hogwarts this morning.  Draco will escort you.  You will not tell anyone of your new…allegiances.  This includes other Slytherins."  Well that's strange, him not wanting me to "boast" to the other Slytherins.  Secrets and lies.  Wonderful.  

I glared at him.  "I don't follow orders, Malfoy."  

He smiled again.  A haunting one, full of…something I didn't want to contemplate.  

It looked like victory.

"I believe you will do as you are told.  Your father may not like the consequences of your actions if you don't."  

So that's what they were going to do.  Hurt him if I disobey.

Lovely people, these Death Eaters.  Really.

I glared.

He laughed.  

Truly insufferable git.

"Just like your father.  I hope that you are…wiser…than he."  Now what was that about?  He handed a book to me.  "Portkey.  This will allow you to return to your room.  It does not allow you to return here.  If we have need of you, Draco will bring you."  Well isn't that just great.  I've been 'missing' for almost two days now, and I was just supposed to arrive with no problems?

"They've been informed that you were…upset…about your parent's deaths.  Presumably you left to mourn on your own."  Somewhat plausible, I suppose.  But I glared at him for good measure.

"Draco, time to awaken."  His manner changed to that of…a father?  Scary visual place, Death Eaters as fathers.  My father was a Death Eater.

Maybe Draco and I should start a support group—My Father is a Death Eater Anonymous. 

Draco stood, accioed new robes and did a cleaning charm.  He whispered something to his father that I couldn't quite hear, and then they both looked at me before Malfoy nodded.  Draco's expression didn't change, much.  A slight widening of the eyes, disbelief.  

What was that about?  Sigh.  

Draco reached for my hand, a felt a yank across my middle…then I was back in my room, Draco standing next to me.  "Portkeys are worse than flooing."

He nodded.  

Lapsed into silence again.

We went to the common room.  I debated about going to see my father…did I really want to face the wrath of Snape?  

"What did it feel like?"

I looked at him.  Just stared.  "No, not that.  What happened after your father…"

"Oh."  I was surprised he would ask about that.  About anything really.  "I don't know.  Just got so angry…felt it all building up, and it was either me or the windows."  I smiled for a moment, remembering.  "I chose the windows.  I don't think I'd like being in itty bitty pieces."

"Probably not."  Nothing else.  Strange.

"Why?"

He shook his head.  "Just wondering."  He probably knew more about it than me.

"I'm going to see my father."  No one else was around; I was safe.

For the moment.

I left the common room…just went down a corridor, knocked on the portrait.

"Watch that!  Password?"

"Let me in."  

"That's not it."  A disgusted snort.  From a painting!

"Come on, I want to talk to him.  Let me in."  

"Not without a password."

"Let me in before I chop you into little pieces!"

"Alexandra…if you're quite through pestering and threatening a defenseless portrait, do come in.  We have much to discuss."  

Gulp.  Discuss.  

When a parent says 'discuss' it didn't bode well.

I sighed.

"Hurry it along, now."

I entered his rooms, sat down on a chair in front of the fire.

I wasn't looking forward to this.

K, that's enough for now, don't you think?  

Hope you enjoyed!

Thanks to my reviewers!


	25. Discussion

Disclaimer:  Not mine.

Warning:  Remember, appearances are deceptive.  What looks to be may not be.  Keep that in mind—coughDracocough—all shall be revealed…in time.  Also keep in mind AU.  Voldemort's not really snake-like, except for personality wise.  Malfoy…well, you'll see.  When I get around to it.

Chapter 25:  Discussion

His room was dark.

"Lumos."  Light.  

Perhaps not the best of ideas—now I can see his glare in its full glory.  Wonderful, really.  

"I do believe I told you to be careful, Alexandra."  

I nodded.

"And that you weren't to go off on your own."

Another nod.

"Or with Malfoy."

I sighed.

"I'm sorry, you know.  More sorry than anything.  Do you honestly think I want this on my body!"  My unmatched beauty, down the drain.  Wait…never there to begin with!  Well, it itched.  And hurt like hell.  And I wanted to carve it out of my arm to remove the…contamination.  

I so did not want this.

And I won't…WON'T…cry.

No crying.

No hysterical sobbing.

I wanted Da.  

I stared at my father standing above me.  

Glaring at me.

I glared back.

And was surprised by the feel of his arms around me, hugging me tight.

"He won't make you prove yourself yet, Lexie.  He'll wait until you graduate.  Hopefully…though he has taken an unprecedented interest in you."

Well, yeah.  

I'm his niece.

But _you_ don't know that, do you? 

Mum never told.

Hell, I didn't even know until weeks ago, with the journal.  

Before all the writing disappeared.

Damn.

Tears.

No.  Just droplets of water with salt.

Who cares if they just _happen_ to be pouring from my eyes.

If they're making his robes wet.

What would he say if he knew who his daughter really was?  If he knew who his late wife—my mum!—was.  Or did he even have to know?

No. 

He didn't.

And Voldie wouldn't tell him.

Not if he wanted me to—cringe—cooperate.

And I still want to curse Malfoy.  Severely.  

He wouldn't be missed, I'm sure.

And Draco—when did he become 'Draco!'—what was with him.

Had to think logically.

Like a Slytherin, not a Gryffindor.

Ends justify the means.

Ambition and power above all else.

Clever.

Sly.

Cunning.

But what could being close to me bring him?

What was the benefit?

He doesn't know my real relationship.

But he does know you're one of the few students that have been Marked before graduation.

"What are you thinking of?  You've got a look about you…I swear I've seen it before…so determined…"  his voice faded.

I wonder if he realizes he's describing himself?

"Nothing." 

Don't show your cards before you're done.  

Don't reveal anything.

Trust no one.

Not even—no, no one.

It would be difficult.

But not impossible.

Must keep the truth hidden under the rocks…

Forever.

OK, not quite what I was going for…but, you get the idea, and hopefully some questions have been cleared up through this, though I'm sure that if you've read closely enough to some of the other chapters, you would have gotten some of the more…subtle…things.  But no worries if you haven't.  I can always get out the hammer J

Thanks for all my reviews...I really do appreciate them!  


	26. Beginnings

Disclaimer:  Do I look like JKR?  No?  Well, there's your answer, I don't own Harry Potter or his world.

Claimer:  Alexandra, plot

Chapter 26:  Beginnings

I returned to the Slytherin dormitories, only to be way-laid by Hermione.

"Where have you been?  They said something about you going off to grieve and all, but they were lying, I know it!  They were worried about something."  

Oh no.  Sometimes she's too perceptive for her own good.

I couldn't honestly tell her, now could I?  That'd be her death warrant and mine.

But I wanted to tell her, tell the world that not every Death Eater had a choice.

That it hurt like hell; still hurt like hell.

That it was just wrong and foolish to believe any different.  

"They weren't lying.  I was grieving."  And that was the truth.  

Only the reasons differed.

"I'm so sorry about your parents, Alex."  

Wasn't everyone?  

"Stupid Ministry."  I didn't explain, but she nodded her head in agreement.

And then surprised me by throwing her arms around me to give me a hug.

I returned it, if a bit awkwardly.  

"I'll be alright, you know."  That is, if the Aurors, the Death Eaters, Voldemort, or my father didn't kill me first.

Strange, but I feared my father more.

"I know.  You're strong."  

Hah.  I'm pathetically weak, but I don't correct her.

My stomach grumbled, reminding me that I hadn't eaten all day.

"Hungry?  We can go down to the kitchens."

I looked at her more closely.  Hermione, suggesting to go and break the rules?  

She caught my look of disbelief.  "I'm not that rule-conscious, you know.  Just appear to be, really."  

Yeah, right.

But I nodded, accepting that vague explanation.  

Let her lead me to the kitchens, where I made myself a sandwich.

Finishing it rather rapidly.  

Now what?  It was late—though a few minutes before curfew.  I think.    

Definitely didn't want to get caught by Filch.

Evil man, that one.

"See you tomorrow in class, alright?  I want to avoid Filch as much as possible."  

She nodded, headed back to Gryffindor.  

Finally, back to my room-mate-proofed bed.

I whispered the password and was surprised to see people still in the common room.

They glared at me; I glared back.

"Andrews!"  

I turned, recognizing the voice.  "What do you want, Malfoy?"  The name spit out with venom.  

He raised an eyebrow at my tone, but followed along.

Only, I wasn't playing.

"What were you doing out so late, trying to lose points for Slytherin?"

Oh Malfoy, shut up.  I want to go to bed.  

"No.  Slytherin does that quite well by itself."  

He gave me a last glare and a nod.  

I smirked, gave them all one final glare, and went to bed.

As I was leaving, I heard a faint whisper, "Does she know how much she looks like Snape when she does that?!"  

Here ends Dark Secret.

Will be continued in a sequel, when I get around to it.

Yes, I realize that several questions remain unanswered and many things left unresolved.  I don't believe that every story truly resolves everything, yet many of the questions will be answered in the sequel.  

Thank you all for your reviews, I appreciate every single one of them.  

For notice on when the sequel is coming out, please see my yahoogroup—addy in my profile. 

Thanks again!


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